Nightfall
by sampire
Summary: sequel to sunrise. no longer on hiatus. i've started writing it again, so please feel free to read some more if you'd like.
1. Sunless

**(Disclaimer- I own no twilight characters, but i DO own annabelle hensley, and this entire storyline.)**

_Alrighty, here is the first chapter of the sequel to Sunrise. Please read and leave reviews. Enjoy, friends!  
this is anna's point of view. OH. and if you haven't read my story Sunrise, please don't read this until you've  
read that one!_

Sunless

"Margaret?" I heard the voice before I saw the face appear in the crack of the open door. For a split second, the outside world swirled into view, and I caught a quick glimpse of the long hallway, the men in white carrying little trays of food. I shrunk in the corner of my cell, trying to escape the woman with the bright red lips and the curly white hair as she pressed the door closed. I hated her. Her milky blue eyes made contact with mine, and I shoved my face into the wall, hiding from her like a child. I didn't care what she thought of me. I was beyond troubling myself with such trivial insecurities. Who cared if I acted like a child? Nobody cared at all.

"My name is _not_ Margaret." I grumbled against the soft white of the wall. My fingers traced the shape of the square bubble, identifying the padded wall with the flesh of my hands, committing it to memory once more. She clicked her tongue. I watched her shake her head in my peripheral vision. I grinded my teeth together, trying to control the rage that'd built inside of me, swelling to the point of explosion over the past month. She pursed her lips.

"Now, now. I thought we'd discussed this—" She started, voice sympathetic and professional all at once. I despised her voice. I wanted to rip her throat out. Shove her pricey high heel past her perfectly lined lips. Old women never looked nice in lipstick. Someone ought to have told her that.

"I _know _my name. And it's _Anna_." I interrupted. I twisted my face from the blinding white wall to watch her flinch at the venom in my voice. Her glasses slipped down the bridge of her nose as she inspected her spiral notebook, checking to see if I'd told her the correct name. I supposed, seeing as I _was_ in a mental hospital, things such as my _name_ were not to be trusted when leaving my mouth. What did I know, right? I grinded my teeth again as she nodded slowly.

"I see. It seems that I've misspoken. I do apologize for that, but you must be able to see why I might not have thought that you'd know, either. With your identity crisis and all, I mean." I pushed up from the corner, letting my back slam against the wall, still as far as possible from her, but now allowing her to see my face. I knew by the result of her horrified expression that my face was murderously angry. I kept my fists balled into my stomach, holding them there so that I wouldn't strike her face. I let one lone finger slip up to greet her. She gasped as a smile crept over my mouth.

"Annabelle Hensley!" She scolded, checking briefly to make sure that she'd gotten the name correct before she spoke. I rolled my eyes at her. You'd think that after all of the times she'd seen me she'd know my name. But who was I to judge, right? I was the crazy kid. Maybe I'd imagined her coming to see me all those times before like I'd _supposedly _imagined everything else. That's what she'd told me, anyway, that I'd imagined everything. I was definitely blessed to have been assigned this nice psychoanalysis woman. Some psychiatrist _she_ was. I snorted.

"Shove it up your ass, old hag." I would have laughed at the bewildered expression on her face as I spoke the words. I would have laughed just at the fact that the words had proceeded from my very lips. But laughter had avoided me since I'd woken up that horrible night. I shuddered against the white wall as I remembered that dreadful awakening, feeling the searing pain inch up my chest. My teeth clicked together as I attempted to conceal the vomit in my mouth. I swallowed hard, feeling the acid slide back into my hollow stomach. Carol watched me with a hard expression, probably trying to figure out what she'd do with me. That seemed to be the only question on everyone's mind lately: "What do we do with the crazy girl?" I wanted to knock each and every one of them out. Turn the light off on their normal lives like they closed the blinds on me. Screw them. I hated them all. How could they betray me like this? My own parents?

I shoved against the wall, standing in the corner with my face buried in my hands. There was no way that I'd let her see me cry. I listened intently as her footsteps reverberated throughout the tiny room, coming closer. I flung my arms out behind me, hoping to hit her, happy almost that my arms were free to do so.

"Get the hell out! Leave, _now!"_ I screamed. A soft, defeated sigh passed her lips and blew my hair gently into my face. I could feel the heat of her sagged skin behind me. I didn't like having her so close. I wanted to leave her, to escape this cold, sunless room.

_Sunless._

My heart ached. I couldn't breathe. I sunk to the soft floor as she slipped out of the room quietly, my breath coming in short little rasps. I couldn't seem to get the oxygen to my lungs. It swirled in my mouth, tasting like poison. I felt dizzy. My eyes strained to focus on the room, but they were clouded with a hot, familiar, imaginary red. I squirmed against the wall, no longer sure where the floor was. Everything felt the same. My head was too messed up to pull me back to the present. The red of his face was all I could see, the warmth of his flesh all I could feel. I choked on the tears flowing from my eyes, choked on the imagined love that strangled my tortured heart.

I felt so tired. So very tired and drained. I just needed to close my eyes. Just for a little while. But I couldn't allow that. I didn't want to feel the pain of having to dream. Dreams only hurt me. Dreams had landed me in this place, landed me on this cold wall, this cold floor, writhing in agony. Dreams had made me love him, made me hope. Dreams had given and taken everything from me. Dreams sucked.

But not nearly as much as reality.


	2. Freedom

**(Disclaimer- I own no twilighty things. But I wish I did. Really badly.)**

_Yay. two chapters! Please leave reviews for the BOTH of these two chapter. I'd really like to know what  
everyone thought about the first one, too! thank you. :) read, review, and enjoy._

Freedom

It'd been months. Months that seemed like years to my dormant mind. But it hadn't been years, just _one_ year. Twelve months. Twelve months and I'd proclaimed sanity. Twelve months of convincing and lying and sweet talking. Twelve months of spitting out normal, sane realities into the faces of all of those who thought me unstable. Twelve months and I was finally able to escape the madness of the blank white room, the white clothes that I'd had to wear every single day. Each and every day out of three hundred and sixty five I was stuck in those white plastic uniforms. I'd just been another piece to the room, another padded block, covering the wall, blending into the pale background that'd become my entire world. I'd managed to free myself of the straight jacket during my first few weeks. I'd only needed to wear it when I was "violent." It didn't happen often. But sometimes I just wasn't able to control myself. Perhaps I _was_ going crazy.

I shook my head, forcing away the thought of legitimate insanity. All I cared about now was that I was free. Completely free.

The papers had been signed. I'd been released. Minutes from now the fresh morning air would slip over my face, tugging me back into reality, into the world that I'd been ripped from. Who knew that one single dream could turn your world upside down? I supposed it didn't matter much anymore. I was back. But I was no where near changed. No part of me believed that my lunacy was done for, that what had brought me to this place was fictional. Every inch of me still craved the warmth of Jacob's skin, the cool of Edward's touch. I didn't care what it cost me. I would find them. I'd just have to be secretive until I did so. Keep up my charade of sanity, my air of normality. Keep playing the good girl; keep up the false progress I'd supposedly made over the past year. Things would go fine if I could just act normal, keep my mother and father out of the know.

But that would be hard. I could tell now by the way that my mother's eyes continuously darted from the papers she was clutching in her hands to my smiling face. I knew that she would find nothing there on my features but the smile. I had become all too good at feigning ordinariness, pretending to be fine when I could quite literally have shaken one of the staff members to death for their unhearing ears. No one believed a word from my mouth. Not one spoken word of truth that departed from my desperate lips was met with understanding and conviction. The only choice now was to lie. Lie through my teeth, pray for the best. The lies were all that anyone here seemed to believe. Or maybe they didn't believe me at all. Maybe they were simply _pretending _to believe I'd made progress, like I'd pretended to _make_ progress. Maybe I wasn't really as good an actress as I thought. Maybe they were just tired of dealing with me. They'd probably much rather play pretend right along with me, feign oblivion in response to my poorly produced lies just so it'd be quicker to get me out of their facility.

It was all for the best, I suppose, if they really _were_ just trying to get rid of me. I'd rather have every single person here in front of me mutedly believe that I was a lunatic behind my back and let me off free rather than have them openly think it and keep me locked in that horrible room. I'd do anything they asked just to touch my face to the outside air, to flex my feet into the wet grass. I'd happily plunge a knife through my chest simply to escape the madness of this orderly place. It was a good thing they never allowed sharp utensils in close proximity with me while I was held captive in their little cage. I was beginning to think that people didn't go _into _that place already being crazy. The hospital just made them that way. I hoped that Jacob and his pack of wolves would massacre these horrible people in their disgusting white suits when I told him about them.

The thought of Jake had my smile twisting menacingly. I could feel my fingers curling into my palms, ready to attack and defend. I turned to stare down the hall so that my mother wouldn't catch my expression and tried to breathe evenly. I had to get this under control. Of all the things I'd managed to fake, this hadn't been something I'd been getting any better at. I just couldn't hide the anger I felt when I thought of him. It always enraged me, thinking that he'd never truly existed, remembering every moment spent with him, remembering every time someone had argued with me, saying that he'd been just a figment of my mind's eye. Too soon the face of the old woman, Carol, would creep into my mind and I'd hear her dizzying words replay in my mind.

"_Jacob doesn't exist. Now, you listen to me. No, keep your hands behind your back. I _will_ call the guards on you. Don't make me have to get you a straight jacket again. Please, Anna. Just listen to me. I know what you're going through. My children, too, had imaginary friends, but they had to grow out of them, just like _you_ have to grow out of them. Edward and Jacob are _imaginary._ They aren't going to save you, stop saying that. No one can protect you from your own mind. Only _you_ can help you now."_

My nails cut into the skin of my hands as I flinched at the sound of her voice playing in my head. I needed to leave. I needed to get away. How dare she tell me that they didn't exist! They did exist. One day she would regret telling me that they didn't exist. She'd regret the day she ever told me that I was crazy, told me that my entire life up to this point had been _imaginary._ She would regret that. I would make sure of it.

A hand found its way onto my shoulder and I jumped, ready to claw at the tightening grip, my face going pallid. My eyes met my fathers just in time, just as I was about to screech. He eyed me warily, his chin sinking closer to his chest, watching me carefully. I breathed deeply, plastering the smile onto my mouth once more. My eyes stung as I looked up at his head, haloed in the artificial lighting. His face, all but hidden in the shadows, looked terrifying, ominous. The devil buried into a human body, tucked away into the form of a simple man. I shuddered at the comparison.

"Ready to go home?" He said, voice too even to be normal. I blinked at him, shocked by the tone of his voice, normal or not. I hadn't heard the sound in such a long time. I was stunned, too, by the thick lines in his face, the gray in his hair, the slight beard taking place on his chin. He looked so tired, so different. Like life had taken its toll on him in the one year I'd been away. Like _he'd _been the one to suffer, to sit locked up in a little room away from the rest of the world. But he'd had it easy. He didn't have to stay here, like me. So why did he look so worn? He hadn't even come to visit me. Not even once. I clenched my teeth together, still smiling tightly, and nodded, a late response. My mother trailed along behind us as we made our way to the glass door. He kept his hand tight on my shoulder, pulling back every few moments when I'd start to tip forward.

My eyes were hardly curious as I scanned the new corridors. I'd never seen the hospital before. Nothing but the white room and that scanty hallway, anyway. The first time I'd come here, I hadn't been conscious. It'd happened when my mother and I had been drinking soda one day, eating lunch. Like was usual after the night of my dream, my eyes had been frantically searching the streets through the window, my fingers clenching around the neck of my shirt, anxious and jittery. I'd screamed whenever the phone rang, flinched when the sound of the television wafted through the doorway. I'd fallen out of my chair when the toaster popped, when someone spoke, whispered. I'd been able to tell that my mother was worried, at her wit's end. But I'd never expected her to be capable of what she did to me.

To think that your own mother could spike your Pepsi. Could put an unhealthy dosage of cough medicine into the mix, stir it in, wait for it to take effect. To think that she'd have a nurse, two nurses, waiting in the shadows of the garage, ready to spring, to take action the second I fell out of consciousness. To think that my mother could watch as they dragged me away and threw me into their truck, rushed me to the hospital and locked me away in a white room with a straight jacket on. My own mother. My mom.

My fists unintentionally slammed into my sides. My father gave me a weird look, but continued at a normal pace. I sucked in as much air as my lethargic lungs could manage, trying not to give in to the urge of wrapping my fingers around my mother's neck and heaving. I could not get over the fact that she'd done that to me. I didn't care about her bullshit reasons. I didn't care if she thought that it was what was best for me, that she thought I'd never let them take me if I was awake. How dare she do that to her own child? Renee would have never done that to me.

Or would she have?

Hadn't that been an option, back when Edward left me? Had it not been spoken of? Neither parent had, at the time, wanted to be responsible for locking me away, but, if things had gotten worse, if they had truly felt that I would go insane, would they have done the equivalent? Would they have put me into an insane asylum?

Probably.

I sighed deeply, feeling the old ache make itself at home in my otherwise vacant chest. My eyes focused on the blue skies just ahead, and I had to suppress a groan. It was too blue, not at all the sky that I wanted to see. There wasn't a single cloud marring the perfect silken sapphire cap. It made me frown. Quickly, I rearranged my pout into a wide smile, acting on impulse at the sight of my father's expectant gaze. He stared at me as though he expected me to drop to my knees and kiss the dry earth in front of me. Anger rose inside of me, curling through my veins like liquid smoke, balling my fingers close, forming fists at the ends of my wrists. I hid them in the big pocket of the sweatshirt they'd brought me, still grinning at him. He pulled me quickly to the car, looking around frantically, probably hoping no one would see him here. Who wants to be seen taking their kid out of an insane asylum? My dad was always so careful about his appearance, his reputation, in society. Somebody ought to have told him that life is not a popularity contest. It's a game of war, death, and heartbreak. He'd have to get over it.

I almost wished that someone was there at that moment. That some witness, some rich man from the country club my parents attended, would show up out of thin air, just so that I could call to him, get his attention. So that I could rub it in my parents' faces that they weren't perfect, that they didn't deserve their title of normal, loving parents at all. What parents can speak positively of themselves after having produced a madman, a psycho? I almost laughed at the thought of their reddened faces as we drove away.

They would all regret the day they turned my life upside down. My parents, the stupid people at the hospital…Soon enough, they'd all be sorry.


	3. Psycho

**(Disclaimer- I own...ah. I've got nothing witty to say. nevermind.)**

_So uh, before anyone goes "WHAT THE HECK IS WRONG WITH ANNA?!" just take a second to realize  
that her own mother stuck her in a padded little cell for an entire year. she's bound to have gone a little wacko.  
:) pleassseee keep reading and reviewing! thanks for the positive reviews so far.  
alright. go read. :D_

Psycho

I was sitting on the edge of my mother's bed. Staring. I was just sitting there, perched and motionless like a murderer from a horror film, patiently waiting for the moment in which my prey would stir from a long night's sleep. I sat waiting, watching. Even my breath was silent. I watched as her orange eyelids began to slowly disconnect, fluttering softly like the wings of a butterfly. A small smirk marked my face. My head tilted fractionally to one side, gazing intently at her face. I wanted my eyes to be the very first things she saw upon waking. I was so overjoyed by the frightened look on her face when her top lids finally departed from the bottom ones that I could have chuckled. She snapped into focus, not at all groggy in the dawn of her wake. Her breath sucked into her throat and was lodged there. She didn't speak for a moment. Her eyes were large, her eyebrows furrowed, mouth quivering slightly. It was odd that I should feel such an intense enjoyment just at the detection of her fierce panic.

"What are you doing?" She whispered in a small voice. The terror was thick in her tone. It was almost like she was pleading with me. Like she was trying to warn me without actually having proof that I had something horrible in mind. My smirk enlarged, a look of confusion crossing over my brows. I could feel the sparkle of delight in my eyes, could see in hers that she had noticed my twisted glee. Her fear intensified.

I realized suddenly, with a sharp prick of surprise, that, as of this second, I found myself to be stunningly similar to James, my old tracker friend. Well, "_friend_" wouldn't exactly be the word, but by the friendly tone of his voice, of his expression, much like my own comparatively amiable self at this very moment, I'd say that the word "friend" would fit just fine. I let the smile break over my mouth, showing off my teeth. Her nostrils flared, fingers tightening on the sheet she held snugly under her chin.

"Where is Dad?" I asked her sweetly. Her chin trembled as she thought through her answer. Her eyes contracted as she spoke quietly through her teeth.

"He's in the kitchen." She almost hissed. At this lie, I had to chuckle once. Could she really be this impossibly naïve as to think that I'd fall for her trick? After all, was she not soundly sleeping just minutes before? How would she know where my father was when she wasn't even awake to have been alerted of his whereabouts? She _wouldn't_ know. She was simply saying this so that I'd have a reason to watch myself. So that I'd be more cautious. So I wouldn't do anything irrational. But I knew the truth, and he was _not_ in the kitchen.

She clenched her teeth, the muscles in her neck tightening as she leaned away from me. I continued to laugh innocently. Just like it'd done with Edward and with James, the sweet honey of my voice made for a more impressive threat. The left side of my mouth pulled up into a sloppy grin and I shook my head unhurriedly.

"The kitchen, hm?" I asked slowly, watching each second as her expression became more and more afraid. I was almost bewildered at how blatantly terrified she was of me, but more thoroughly thrilled with my newly declared power. "How odd. I could have sworn I just watched him drive away in the Toyota." I chuckled again, faking perplexity. It amused me more so when her fingers inched to the right of her, searching subtly for the telephone. She was sincerely frightened, acting like I was capable of murder. What was she going to do, call the police? I sighed, getting up from the bed and stretching my hand out to her.

I may have been pissed, but I was _not_ so completely engulfed in rage that I could possibly commit a murder. I found myself disgusted with the two of us, my mother and myself, as she refused my hand and sunk closer to the phone. I'd never intended to truly hurt her, only to frighten her. And I had. It'd worked. But now I felt guilty, like somehow my acting suspicious and menacing was at all worse than her drugging me and having me committed to a hospital. I now knew how Alice felt.

But I hated her more now, my mother. I hated that she thought me capable of such horrible deeds. I scowled at her before doing an about-face and sauntering into the hallway.

"Do you want breakfast?" I called to her grudgingly. I heard her shaky rejection only faintly as I bolted down the stairs. I ignored the stinging hurt her snub had caused me, occupying myself with a bowl of cereal. Before I was halfway through, her footsteps descended down the stairs. I picked up the bowl, holding it to my lips, sucking down the milk so I could get it over with quicker, panicking. I didn't want to be in this house with her for another minute. I was sick of her. Sick of the two of us. Sick to my stomach. I needed to get out. I tossed the bowl to the sink, knowing the plastic wouldn't break as it collided with the steel basin. My mom's eyes widened as the loud clanging noise echoed through the room. Her alarmed glare flickered warily between my hands, looking for signs of a weapon. My mouth fell open in astonishment. I couldn't believe this.

I pushed past her, ignoring completely the fact that she was telling me to stay in the house, and rushed out into the morning air. My tongue was sore from biting it and I flinched as my teeth caught it accidentally once more. I forced my way onto the street in my black truck, glad to have at least this piece of my old life still in tact. I'd had this truck in that…_dream_. That didn't change. I still had this truck. It wasn't over. I was ready to leave. I was going to find them. I refused to believe for even one moment that they didn't exist. The thought was ludicrous. Absolutely impossible. Unthinkable.

I swallowed hard. Murderer? _Me?_ How could she think that? I would never hurt her, though I may very well want to. I mean, hell, she _drugged_ me. She basically injected me with poison so those atrocious people could get me into that hellhole of a room with ease, without trouble. She had me locked away for a year. She had me held prisoner. All because of what she thought was a dream. But it wasn't a dream. So, in fact, I'd gone to an insane asylum by way of her own ignorance. Because she was stupid…because she was cruel and untrusting to the point of locking her kid up in a tiny white room just so she wouldn't have to face the public with a daughter at her side who _thought_ she had a boyfriend, and really never _did_. But I _did_ have Jacob. I did. And she wouldn't, nor would anyone else, be able to convince me of otherwise.

I stopped the truck on the side of the empty road when my right wheels sunk into the ditch for the fifth time. It just wasn't worth getting into an accident over. This pain, this grief that my mother had caused me…I would get over it eventually. She didn't matter. None of them did. Only Jacob and Edward. Once I had them, everything would be okay. It'd all pan out. I just had to find them.

I stuck my curled hand in front of my face, resting my pointer finger along the contour of my lips, my thumb tucked under my chin. The fingers of my right hand stayed planted on the wheel, tapping impatiently. Though I knew that I wasn't insane, I felt like I was. Everything was so weird, so out of the ordinary. My personality seemed drastically altered, much more impulsive, dangerously so. In the rearview mirror, I could see my face. I looked anxious, suspicious. Every few seconds I twitched sporadically, looking like a true psycho. I knew that these things were simply happening because of the fact that I was nervous, because I was confused and bewildered by how drastically my life had been flipped into the water. It was like someone had had a death grip on my entire existence, held it firmly under the tides of the ocean, drowned it until it lay still and motionless. Like my life had kicked the bucket, and, in place of that old life, I'd been given new, confusing little scraps of another life. Like it was my sole duty to piece them together, to make a life worth living out of these scraps of trash. I wanted to spit in the face of the one who'd done this to me. But I didn't know who to blame.

I lay my head down against the steering wheel, hoping that I could find solace in the empty space of my car, that I could drift off to sleep and sleep without dreams. I should have known that I wouldn't get my wish, not after all that had happened to me in the past year and a half. It took only two minutes for the car behind me to honk its horn. I was marginally surprised by the sudden appearance of the car, but not enough to look at it. I was not in the way of the road. Surely there was enough room for them to go around me. I stayed there, hoping they'd just continue on their way and leave me alone. It was only such luck as mine to have been stuck on a deserted road with an overly caring person. I understood why the honking continued, realizing that I must look in need of help, but I didn't care. I stuck my hand out the window without lifting my head and waved them forward, around me.

The horn honked a third time.

Sighing in aggravation, I pushed my face through the open window and turned at the waist, crawling into the seat on my knees, facing the oncoming traffic behind me. There was one solitary car. It was red. The sun glinted off the front windshield awkwardly, blinding me for a moment, but the second my eyes adjusted, my heart fell into the bottoms of my feet and my head seemed to fill with heavy, wet sand. My breath flew from between my teeth like a gust of wind. I almost screamed.

Sitting behind the wheel of the car, there was a man. He was tall, it seemed. His skin glimmered mildly in the sunshine, not sparkling, but glistening. He was shirtless. His bare skin, beautiful as it was from this distance, was red. Russet. I kicked the door of my truck open and fell to the dirt pit on the side of the road. The car behind me cut the engine and the man stepped out.

Tears slid down my cheeks.

_Jacob, oh Jacob._


	4. Desperation

**(Disclaimer- i still have nothing witty to say. no ownage.)**

_i don't know what to say here, either. ahah. i'm so boring today. but uh, i promise  
to have chapter five up tomorrow. its already finished, but i normally put my chapters up  
too fast and then i don't get as many reviews.. which stinks. so i'm waiting. impatiently.  
:) but yeah. read and review! thank you very much.  
OH! and i just put up my fictional story on fictionpress . com under sampire, too.  
please read it! _

Desperation

I stood from the ground, my knees wobbly. My fingers latched onto the handle of my car door, trying hopelessly not to fall over. I needed to see his face. He continued forward, his legs taking long strides, carrying him closer to me. His hands were outstretched, reaching. I imagined him scooping me into his strong arms, kissing my nose, my cheeks, my lips…Telling me he loved me, that it would all be okay. I needed to hear those words. I needed him. I needed Jacob. Tears filled my eyes, and for a moment, I couldn't see anything. I wiped at them with my right hand, still clinging to the side of the car with the other. I hadn't managed to completely stand yet. I was still half on the ground. I couldn't keep myself from screaming his name. I loved him. I missed him. I needed him. More than anything.

"Who let you out of your cage, Psycho?" A voice said. It wasn't the voice I'd been expecting. My breath stuck to my lips, no longer willing to merge with the cool air. A horrible ache reverberated through my chest, curling around the muscles and the tendons, leaving them frozen. I couldn't breathe. This wasn't Jacob. This wasn't him at all.

The boy came closer, and I noticed that his skin was not as beautiful as my eyes had previously led me to believe. It was not a stunning russet, it was a cheap spray tan. He was orange, not red-brown. My teeth clenched, closing off the entry for my sobs to escape from. The boy wasn't as tall as he'd seemed. He _was_ taller than me, but not as much. His black hair was long, but it was greasy, gross. His eyes were black, too, and disturbed, highly amused by whatever expression I displayed on my face. He sneered at me as I sat dazed, staring with my tear-filled eyes, still hanging off the side of my truck.

"Did you hear me, or are you having another hallucination?" He spat. I cringed, recoiling from the sound of his cruel joke. How I ever could have thought he was Jacob, I didn't know. He was nothing like him. Maybe my mind really _was_ whacked. I'd do anything to make Jacob appear in front of me. Perhaps this was a feeble attempt to bring him to life. But no. He wasn't dead. He was living, somewhere…waiting for me. I had to believe that. I wouldn't last ten minutes outside of that insane asylum if I _didn't_ believe that. I tried hard to inhale the fresh air around me, clear my head. He raised an eyebrow.

"Go away." I finally managed, tugging on the door handle, pulling myself back onto the seat of the truck. He snorted, coming closer. His hand found its way onto the inside of the door, and he held it open. It was obvious that he wasn't about to just let me go. Why did he have to torture me? But I remembered him from high school. He was a friend of a boy who'd once liked me. A friend of a boy I'd turned down. He'd always been a jerk. Horrible. That's why he had to torture me. He was cruel. He'd never had any respect for anyone. I remembered thinking that he would wind up in a jail cell. I'd hoped he would. My teeth met audibly as he smiled antagonistically, fear trickling onto my face.

"Or what? You gonna go all _Carrie_ on me?" He laughed, shaking his head. I wanted to punch him. I turned to the passenger seat, looking for something heavy I could hit him with. I knew well that my fist wouldn't do much. He continued to chortle at his stupid jokes. "You never _did_ make it to prom, did you?" He grinned.

"I never _wanted _to go to prom, Kevin." I hissed, watching him in my peripheral vision as he reached in to touch his fingertip to my hand. He slid it across my skin, making me shudder in fear. I ripped it out from beneath him, holding it on my lap instead of the wheel. I couldn't seem to find anything heavy enough. I didn't even have a purse. I had nothing. Just my hands. And my teeth, I supposed.

"Oh, I think you _did _want to go. But Jared never asked you. He went with Sarah, forgot about you. You _did_ turn him down, of course, that one time. But it never really mattered much to him. He always knew you were a _freak."_ By the time he'd finished saying this, his face was less than an inch from mine, his hot breath hitting me in the face. I knew from the look in his eyes what his intentions were, and they weren't good. I started to shake, pushing back as far as possible against the seat. My fingers instinctively ripped the key from the ignition, dragging it hard across the skin of his cheek. Blood trickled out from beneath the uneven metal piece, lines of red racing down his face. I stuck my hand over my nose, trying not to breathe in the smell. He jumped back.

"You _bitch!"_ He screamed at me, already launching himself back into the truck with me. He was too late, though. I'd already stuffed the key back in its place, gunning the engine. My right foot stomped hard on the accelerator and the car leaped forward, leaving Kevin hanging from the side of it. The car door swung freely, hitting him in the back as I continued to speed up and break repeatedly. My left foot met his face and he flew out into the street, rolling into the ditch. I sped away quickly, tears falling from my eyes. I could barely breathe. I couldn't see where I was going. I just kept driving, fast, dangerously. I didn't care.

Where was Jacob? Didn't he care about me? Didn't he care about these cruel people, what they were doing to me? What about Edward? Wouldn't Alice have seen these things happen? Wouldn't she have told him? Wouldn't he have come to save me?! Didn't they care? Didn't they love me?! They had to love me! They had to! Please, they had to still care…

My foot pressed down on the break and I threw the truck into park again. I couldn't continue like this. My face was soaked with salty tears, my eyes blind with rage and desperation. My arms clasped around my torso and I held myself there, wishing that another set of arms would take their place. I couldn't feel anything from the waist down. Everything was numb. My sobs shattered off the windshield in front of me and shot back, stinging my ears with their piercing sound. I knew that I was in danger. I didn't even have a clue as to where in the road I was parked. I could have been smack dab in the middle of a highway for all I knew. Kevin could be coming after me, intent on my death.

It was strange, thinking that. For once, having a _human_ be a danger to me, rather than some strange, beautiful, mythical creature. Somehow it was much more menacing when the murderer was of my own species, nothing special, just like me. Maybe it was just the fact that there was no one left to protect me now. Maybe that was why it seemed so much more terrifying. Because I had no one. Because it was all a dream.

I curled into the seat, letting my face rest against the console. What was it worth, leaving that place, if there was nothing out here for me? If life didn't consist of those impossible men, those beautiful, loving…_creatures?_ What was the point? I couldn't seem to decide which was worse. Surely it would suck being stuck inside of a little white room for the rest of eternity. It would be horrible to never be able to explore the real world, to never be given the chance to look for my Jacob and my Edward, my supposed imaginary friends. I'd never have a chance to look for them. Never would finding them even be a possibility. But could it be worse than that? Could being _free_ be _worse_ than being held captive in that hospital? Would it be worse to be given the chance to find what I'm looking for? To spend the rest of my life searching for a happiness I'd only found during sleep, but never find it? Because what if I _couldn't_ find them? What if I never found Jacob? What if I scoured the entire planet and could not find him anywhere?

What if Jacob and Edward _didn't_ _exist_?

Would it be better to be stuck inside of a little padded room, forever unsure of that happiness, always wondering if it was real? Would it really be better to stay oblivious, rather than have the chance to find the truth, and come up empty handed?

What if my happy ending really was just a dream? What if every moment I'd spent in Jacob's arms…every second of that perfect life my sleep had conjured up…what if every bit of my happiness was just a farce? What if Jacob…Edward…Bella…the Cullens…_all_ the mythical creatures I'd ever come across…what if _none_ of it existed? What would I do then? What would I live for? Would I ever be able to live without them?

For as long as I could remember, they'd been a part of me. Before that supposed dream, the dream that had provided me with every answer, every ounce of happiness and misery…before that happened, I'd _still_ had dreams of them. Of Edward and of Jacob. I'd just not been aware of who they were at the time. What did that mean? Didn't that mean _something?_ Didn't they _have _to exist, then?

I shook my head, trying to stop crying. I couldn't think about it anymore. I just couldn't. I couldn't do that to myself. I had to make it home. I had to wipe the anguish from my face. Make every bit of desperation, terror, confusion, hope…make it all just disappear from my face. I had to reapply the happy, calm mask. I had to look normal, keep up my act of ordinary teenager. Even if being in that little white cell _would_ be somehow better for me, for my mental state, I couldn't go back there. I couldn't give my parents a reason to send me back. I needed to keep playing pretend, to make them think I was okay. Because whether I suffered or not, whether I truly went insane or even if I _died_ in the process, I _had_ to look for them, for my imaginary loves. I couldn't give up hope. I had to believe that they were out there. I had to try. I just had to try.

Even if I came up empty handed in the end.


	5. Forgive and Forget

**(Disclaimer- i own no twilighty men. how unfortunate.)**

_so i've put this on here twice now. because the first time i put up the wrong one.  
and then i lost everything. and its been very annoying trying to do all this again.  
rah. i am such an impatient person. it isn't even at all amusing. but anyway. chapter five.  
yay. read and review please. thanks._

Forgive and Forget

Things had been going smoothly. It'd been a week since I'd come home from my mental breakdown on the highway, and my parents seemed to think that I was sane enough to go grocery shopping by myself and do other normal teenage activities. My mother still seemed jumpy around me, and my dad hardly looked me in the eye, but I didn't pay attention to the stab that was to my chest. I ignored it, just like I ignored the urge to run from the room screaming, headed in the direction of Forks, Washington. But I'd be there soon enough. Tonight, I planned on telling my parents that I wanted to go to college there, in Olympia. Hopefully, like in my dream, my mother would fill my pockets with green. Then I'd be able to buy my old house again. If it was even there. If it existed.

I sighed dramatically, staring sadly in the direction of the living room as I dragged myself sluggishly down the stairs. It was a vain attempt at making a dramatic entrance, seeing as no one here was paying any attention to me. My dad was sitting on the couch, gazing at the television without actually seeing it, my mom sewing in the corner like her life depended on it, probably just to keep herself busy so she wouldn't have to talk to me. I guess this just wasn't her lucky night, because I fully intended on speaking with her.

"Mom?" My voice was loud in the quiet room, shaky. My dad blinked lazily at the television while my mom's teeth clenched, sending teensy ripples along her jaw. I pursed my lips at the reluctance in her eyes as she turned to look at the floor by my feet. That was her only response. I sighed. "Can I talk to you in the kitchen for a minute?"

Silently, slowly, she placed her fabrics and her needles down on the wooden chair, smoothing her skirt. A quiet cough came from where she stood as she softly cleared her throat. I slid my tongue along the sharp edge of my teeth in irritation, annoyed with the fact that she was still afraid of me, blatantly so. I tapped my fingers on the wall beside me.

"It's kind of important." I pressed, aggravation faintly coloring my tone. Her eyes darted to her husband and back, wider than before. She hurried to me, still indisposed, still scared. It made me angry. I shoved my fists into the big pocket of yet another sweatshirt, feeling a new routine being made. I rapped my fingers slightly harder against the wall, the drumming getting a little louder. She practically jumped into the chair in the kitchen, still avoiding my eyes. It was like all of sudden we weren't the same people anymore. She wasn't the same caring mother, and I wasn't the same normal kid. She was now the meek—but still fully malicious—mouse, and I was suddenly the murderous, insane spawn of Satan, capable of anything.

"Look, Mom," I started, staring her straight in the eye. For one split second, her eyes met mine, and I stopped speaking entirely. I was too absorbed in trying to read the emotion in her expression. My silence only scared her, though, and she looked back at the table before I could detect the feeling I'd seen. I grinded my teeth before continuing. "I think it's time I went off to college. As you know, I've been accepted at that university in Olympia, Washington." I paused briefly just in case she had something to say. She didn't, of course. "So I was wondering if I could have that tuition money now. I would really like it if I could take off tomorrow, if you don't mind. School starts soon and I have to get myself settled."

There was a long stretch of silence as I watched her fidget with the table cloth. I sighed, leaning back against my chair, letting my head fall back so my stare was focused only on the ceiling. My hair almost touched the floor.

"College?" She whispered hesitantly. My head whipped forward to meet her glance before I could control it, but I caught myself quickly and looked at the table, careful not to scare her again. I nodded, knowing she could see it. Out of my peripheral vision, I saw her shake her head. "I don't think you're ready for that…Anna. You just got out of…of…You've been through a lot lately, don't you think you should just let yourself relax for a while?" Her voice was quiet and cautious, and it made me angry. Really, really angry.

My teeth clicked together noticeably and the chair flew back into the wall with a loud screech as I pushed away from the table. Every ounce of strength that I'd been trying to build over this past year so that I could face her, so that I could be normal again…all of it flew out the window the second she spoke the words. I lost it. My hand shot out in front of me, my pointer finger swinging wildly in her face. My voice was loud, ear shattering. She stared at me with incredulous, petrified eyes as I screamed at her.

"Been through a lot lately?!" I shouted. "You mean that _shit_ that _you_ put me through!? How about you calling a freaking _insane asylum_ and _drugging_ me so that they could _take me away!!_ You think I can _relax_ when you're _anywhere_ near me? _Seriously?!_ Screw you, Mom! SCREW YOU."

My dad's hand found its way back to my shoulder, just like that first day they'd picked me up at the hospital. Only now, he was no longer pushing me in the direction of the exit. No, this time, he was holding me back, protecting his wife. Like I'd kill her if he didn't hold me in place. This made me angrier, but I tried hard not to show it. I channeled every bit of control I had, taking my anger out on my destroyed tongue. I chomped down hard, felt the blood ooze down my throat. I kept my teeth sealed together so I wouldn't puke it back up. I was shaking hard.

I saw my father look pointedly at the telephone on the wall. My mother seemed to take a silent breath, inching closer to it. I knew what was happening, understood the inaudible conversation they'd just shared with their eyes. I wouldn't let it happen. I couldn't let them take me back. I wasn't crazy, just mad. Tears filled my eyes.

"No!" I begged them. They both froze, staring at me warily. "No, please don't take me back there. I swear, I'm not insane! I'm just _angry. _I'm mad. Can you really not understand that? You locked me away in a crazy hospital!" I stopped suddenly, realizing that my little rant wasn't doing much for my case besides pointing me in the wrong direction, the direction of the hospital. I had to get a hold of myself. I had to calm down. I breathed deeply, trying to do that. "Please." I said again. "Please just let me go. I promise nothing will happen. Nothing bad. Just college. I just need to get away from all of this. Just let me start over and be _normal_. _Please, _I'm begging." And I _was_ begging. My hands were practically sewn together in front of my pleading face. Tears streamed endlessly from my eyes. The blood seeping from my tongue was making it difficult to think, and I felt like I was going to pass out from the smell and taste of it.

In less than a second, my mother's hand was grasping the phone, staring at my father, waiting for his instructions. I felt sick, like I could puke out the entire year and a half and be rid of the life-altering disease she'd struck me with. I could hear the words coming from my father's mouth before his lips even parted. Telling her to call the hospital, get my room ready. I could see in my mind my flailing arms as he dragged me out to the car, trapped me in the backseat as my mother drove like lightning to that horrible place. I imagined sitting in the corner, covered in white. I'd rather have been dead. I couldn't stand to hear these thoughts spill from his mouth.

But his real words surprised me.

"Let her go." He whispered. "She's right. She deserves this. I think the only thing to do now is to _forgive"_ He paused to squeeze my shoulders, accentuating the word. I clenched my jaw against the continuous flow of blood. "and forget. We all need to move on now." His words were not all that surprised me, but also, his tone was quite astonishing. He actually sounded normal, like a _normal_ dad with a _normal_ kid that he loved. Who'd have thought that my father would turn out to be the one parent who cared? I shook my head, bewildered.

My mom was just as stunned. She stood there, her fingers loose around the white phone, mouth ajar. She didn't even blink. She just stared at my father. He smiled tightly at her, nodding slowly. He squeezed my shoulders again.

"Get your purse out, honey." He said to her. Then he turned to me. "You, go pack your bags. You're going to Washington."


	6. Negotiation

**(Disclaimer- still no ownage.)**

_dfsdhjsdg. this one, too, was uploaded incorrectly and all messed up. so i'm still a little  
aggravated. :) but oh well. i think its all good now. hopefully. otherwise i'll end up like dear little  
anna here. :D insane asylum. woo. but yeah. soo uh. heres chapter six. i've finished seven already, but  
i'm not going to put it up just yet. i may put it up later today, depending on whether or not anyone reads  
these two by that time or not. so uh. read and review please. thanks._

Negotiation

"What?" My voice was flat and bleak as I stared at him, wide-eyed and open-mouthed. He couldn't possibly be serious. He wanted to come with me? To _Washington?_ How was I supposed to look for my imaginary friends with my father tagging along? This was impossible. He could _not_ possibly be serious.

"I said if you want to go to Washington, I'm coming with you." His eyebrows rose, diminishing the shadows that had previously hidden his eyes. The morning was sunny and hot, humid and buggy. I could feel the intense heat leaking in through the cracked window, coiling around my bare arms and legs tangibly. I hated it. It wasn't a good heat. Nothing like Jacob. I couldn't wait to get to Washington, feel the cool rain wash over my face. But with my _father?_ I looked back at my mom, eyes tight with suspicion. Why did she not have a problem with this? I reopened my now closed mouth to question her apathy, but my father cut me off. "Only for a couple of months, of course. I couldn't possibly stay all four years with you."

My teeth clenched in anger, allowing me to feel the hard edges of my jaw flex under the skin. My tongue throbbed. I had no idea what to do. I really only had one choice, to let him come with me. How else would I get to Washington? But did it even _matter_ that I got to go to Washington if I wasn't able to look for them? For Jake, Edward, the rest of the people I loved? I sighed, slouching into the nearest chair, trying to think through my options, though I knew already the decision I'd make.

If I didn't let him come with me, I wouldn't get to go. I'd stay here, always wondering, writhing in pain with the intensity of my need to see them. I doubted I'd ever leave here if that were the case. Because, if in fact I did have to stay here, prisoner in my own home, one of three things would happen. Either I would go insane due to my inevitable longing and get stuffed back in that stupid little hole of a room, or I'd wind up losing my temper with my mother again and _still_ wind up back in that padded, white crazy room. _Or_ I'd wind up trying to commit suicide or something. But that was the very worst outcome of choosing this option. And I didn't plan on choosing this path, anyway.

If I did let him come with me, which I knew that I would, he would make it almost impossible for me to get away. But I _could_ get away. I was faster, sneakier. I may have been clumsy, which would slow me down quite a bit, but I could still outsmart him. I'd had plenty of time going over ways to escape my parents when I was trapped in that hospital. There'd been nothing else to do with my time there, so I'd wound up stuck with hundreds of different scenarios in which I'd managed to run into the arms of my beautiful werewolf, away from the rest of the cruel world, forever safe in his grip. I supposed I could make use of one of those daydreams. I could get away from him, from my dad. I'd just…really go to college at first. I'd just have to _really_ use the money for tuition…and then just sneak out during the middle of the night about a week in. I'd have to stay there for that first week, though, of course, act normal so he wouldn't think anything was up. So he wouldn't be suspicious of my plans. And then I'd just run like hell to La Push. Maybe hitchhike…

I wouldn't need the money to buy my own house this time, I supposed. For all I knew, I could have still owned that house. And if I didn't, I'd forever have a home with Jacob.

Right?

I shook my head quickly. Of course that was right. I was stupid to question it. Jacob loved me. He'd let me stay with him.

Shoving my shaking hand into my pocket, I stood from the chair, looking my dad in the eye. I let a tight smile flash across my mouth for a moment, signaling my acceptance to his negotiation, and ran to retrieve my suitcase. My mother continued to watch me expressionlessly.

The whole time we were gathering our things, I was doubting myself. Even though I tried hard _not_ to question the possibility of finding them there in Washington, I still did. I just couldn't help it. I couldn't keep the thought from slithering into my mind like a deadly snake of apprehension. It was unnerving, thinking that I could be screwing my life up so irreversibly just to search for something that didn't even _exist._ Because, even though I tried not to think about it, there was the chance that they didn't. That I'd run away from my father in _search_ of them and never _find_ them, never find anything, and just wind up with a life-sentence in that cell, with no possibility of ever getting out.

Was it worth that? Knowing what my future would be like if I couldn't find Jacob? Would it be worth that hellish future just to attempt to achieve my purpose in finding happiness? My heart, which almost completely eclipsed my brain, had me itching for the door, ready for every little part of my dangerous plan to pan out. My heart wanted nothing more than to go searching for my knight in russet armor, to face that horrible risk of his not being there at all. Because my heart believed that he _did _exist. My heart knew it, and it ached for that moment, the moment I'd see him again.

But in my head, I knew that it wasn't worth it. That I should just continue the way I was going, forgive and forget, like my dad had said just yesterday. Forgive my mother, forget my dream. Forget about Jacob and Edward, as impossible as it was. That I should just lay back and let life take me where it may, pray that it didn't land me back in that loony-bin. That I should just sit in my room like a good little child and deal with what life had given me, make lemonade out of the lemon I'd been thrown.

The thought of lemons had me pausing in the middle of the hallway, hands on my abdomen. My suitcase crashed to the floor. That conversation with Jacob…it'd been so embarrassing, so uncomfortable. But more than anything, I'd give up this life just to go back to that moment, even if I was only permitted to relive that one second of that old life over and over again. It was better than _this_ just because Jacob would be there. I would have given anything to go back to that time. Anything at all.

I sighed once more, picking up my suitcase and looking at my mom. She was staring at my father, and he was staring at her. They exchanged an odd glance, both of their eyes glimmering with some emotion that I didn't quite understand. I brushed away the curiosity I felt, though, deciding the look was due only to the fact that they'd soon be apart for months at a time. My mother had never done well with being alone. I wondered how she'd survive this.

I spun back to my father, reaching for his suitcase as to put it into the car for him, but he quickly pulled his hand back so that I couldn't touch the faded blue fabric of the case he was holding, his eyes tightening defensively for a second. I stood there, confused with his apparent lack of trust, marveling at what he could have _possibly _thought might have happened if I'd taken the bag from him. Did he think I'd take off with it? Steal it? Or did he think I'd use it as a weapon? That surely couldn't have been the case, because I already had my _own_ suitcase, and I wasn't using _that_ as a weapon. Why would his be any more effective than mine in such a belligerent act?

Before I could say anything about it, he reached out and snagged my bag from my hand instead, nodding at my mother before doing an about-face and sauntering out into the golden light of the morning sky. He tossed the bags lazily into the back of my truck, but I only heard the loud impact of one of them as they collided with the metal of the bed. My eyebrows met in confusion, but I didn't say anything about it. I supposed it was only because I'd packed for four years, whereas he'd only packed for a few months. Plus, I was standing pretty far away…

With one last glimpse of the home around me, my home, I followed my dad out to the truck and climbed into the passenger seat. He gunned the engine and sped away as I sat there in a daze, watching his movements with murky eyes, feeling like only a corpse in the seat of the truck, bobbing with the flow of nooks and crannies in the old road.

I felt like my real self was somewhere else, lost in the clouded sky of Forks, floating and high on hope. I was just days away from my perfect, rainy state. Just days away from love, from answers. In just days I'd be able to sneak away from my father, set off in my attempt to find true happiness, to figure out this entire mess.

Just days, and I'd be _so close_ to the warmth of his skin, of Jacob's skin. His _lips_.

I closed my eyes, seeing his face expand in my mind, taking with it my every thought and sense, my every breath. Every single piece of me, body and soul, all of it belonged to Jacob Gabriel Black. And just like Renee had gone back to Charlie in the repercussion of my death, so would I find my dear Jacob again.


	7. Worthless

**(Disclaimer- im no stephenie meyer. that be for sure, mon.)**

_alrighty. so uh, heres chapter seven. i probably shouldn't be putting this up so soon,  
but i have a really hard time controlling my impatience. i think that most of me is actually  
made UP of impatience..rather than the general organs and other chemical makeup. but yeaaah.  
so here it is, for anyone who is reading this. :) OH and you should definitely  
read my friends fanfic called Alive, by Queenoftheviciousvines.  
and you should read my story on fictionpress . com (without the spaces.)  
under sampire. my story is called Chasing Molly. Here is the summary:  
It's about a young girl who has recently lost her little sister,  
Molly. Molly and Joanna, the star of the book, were both beaten  
by their mother. Their mother has told the entire town that the  
little girl, Molly, was killed tragically when Joanna got a hold of  
her father's hunting rifle, but Joanna knows that that isn't the case.  
Her mother has a secret, and Joanna is desperate to avenge the  
murder of her sister. But will anyone listen to a little girl like her?  
Will the truth ever be heard, believed?  
kay. thats the end of my advertising. :P read on!! and review, please. thanksss!_

Worthless

I slowly slid back into consciousness, feeling the weight of a long sleep settle in around my thoughts. Leisurely, memories of the long drive came back to me, the gray road stretching far and wide before my tired eyes. I remembered seeing the towns flash by, joy in my heart at the knowledge of passing miles. We'd been on our way to Washington, been driving for hours and hours when I finally must have fallen asleep. I now wondered briefly if we were already in Washington, seeing through the orange lids of my still-closed eyes a dim light, one that seemed very familiar to me, comfortingly familiar. This light had the same effect as a Washington morning, waking up beside the window in Jacob's room, the gray clouds producing a sweet, seductive glow that had managed somehow to reach the brown of my vision even through the blanket of my tangerine lids.

But we couldn't have reached our destination so quickly. I didn't think I was capable of sleeping for two days, especially when I was as excited as I had been. I'd been impatient, fidgety. I didn't see how I could have possibly been asleep for very long, but I could tell that I _had_ been sleeping for a while. Just not for two days. That wasn't possible. Maybe eight solid hours at the most. So we couldn't be in Washington.

Realizing at a snail's pace that the seat below me wasn't rumbling with the motion of the truck, I thought of a different route for my brain to wander upon. Maybe we'd stopped at a hotel so that my dad could rest. We'd decided to sleep in shifts so that we wouldn't have to stop during the night, but maybe he hadn't been able to get me out of my sleep, and he'd been too tired to continue on.

Maybe.

I sighed, stretching my arms out, letting my eyelids divide. I was still raring to go, wanting to get out of there and back on the road as soon as possible. I lay there letting my eyes adjust to the strange dim light for a minute before the room around me actually became clear. The second the haze of my vision disappeared, leaving me frighteningly focused, the nausea crippled my stomach, strangled it, and it felt as though my lungs had collapsed. I gasped, sitting straight up against the soft wall of ivory. My head spun.

"You're up." The voice was familiar. A voice I despised. A voice I couldn't handle. Not now, not ever. This couldn't be happening, this couldn't be happening.

The door opened and two Carols stepped through, the room continuing to spin and double, an effect my overwhelmed eyes had conjured up in their attempts to make sense of the image. This was insane. Simply insane. I supposed the feeling of insanity fit, seeing as I was somehow back at the hospital. But how? What had happened?

My stomach dropped. Could I have dreamt my release from the hospital, too? I couldn't believe that. I just couldn't. What was wrong with my brain? Maybe I _did _belong here. There must have been something wrong with me. Why was I always so confused? I closed my eyes, trying to come to terms with my inconceivable madness.

"Anna." Carol called to me, trying to bring me back. She always hated it when I was too wrapped up in my craziness to pay her attention. She was so bossy for an old lady. Her looks were severely deceiving. She looked so nice, so innocent. She didn't even look old. She hardly had a wrinkle on her. Just the white hair and the soft voice led me to believe that the numbers signaling her age were high. But not always was her voice so soft. It seemed to be something she could turn on and off. She could put on a good show, whenever anyone else was around to hear. But when it was just me and her, her voice was flat, monotone, high as it was. She simply sounded bored, cruel. She wasn't some sweet old woman. She was really just a bitch.

My teeth clenched in habitual reaction, a response to the sharp sound of her voice alone. My hands were shaking and tears were escaping the confines of my tightly shut lids, slipping down my lashes and following the creases beside my nose. I shook my head, attempting to ignore her, and not only her, but also the hole in my chest, the hole in my very being.

"You must have realized what happened by now." She continued. Her words confused me, finally plucking the string of curiosity in me, and I looked up unwillingly. She smiled antagonistically, smugly, pleased to have been able to draw the attention back onto herself. I held my breath, hoping she'd say something that would help make some sense out of my life as of waking up this morning…or night…or whatever it was.

She continued to smile, but that was it. No further explanation. I shook my head, letting her know that I had no idea what had happened, hoping she'd keep talking.

Thankfully, it worked.

"Well, surely you must not have thought your father would take you to _Washington_. Who would be there to keep an eye on you, make sure you didn't screw things up, go all crazy again? Because you _are_ mentally ill, Annabelle. We only let you go, let you leave, to see if your parents could handle you. Your dad really wanted you to come home. But apparently they _can't_ handle you. They can't take care of you." She stopped, lips pursed, smudging the lipstick there just a bit. Her eyes were tight, sparkling slightly with a dark humor. If I hadn't been so exhausted with confusion, I would have gone off on her. But I was confused. Very confused.

"You…didn't think I was any better? You didn't let me go because you thought I was sane enough? What about all that improvement Sally had talked about?" The questions fell from my mouth in a rush, so quickly, in fact, that I wasn't sure for a moment if I was even the one asking them. I pictured Sally in my head, the nicer of the two women to come and talk with me. She rarely came here, but the last time I'd seen her, she'd been complimenting me on my progress. Was that really all just an act?

"No, honey." Despite the sweet words, Carol's voice conveyed no sympathy. "No one thought you were any better. It was obvious you were _trying_ to seem better, but you're really a horrible actress. You can tell your condition just by looking at those frantic little eyes of yours, always darting around, looking for things that aren't there." She paused then, thinking for a moment, more and more amused by the second. I just sat there staring, dumbfounded.

"Let me guess." She started again, voice sarcastic, mocking. "You were the kid in kindergarten that went around claiming to be friends with vampires and goblins, huh? Practiced witchcraft on your spare time, tried to move things with your eyes? Wouldn't surprise me." She laughed at her joke, completely oblivious to the startled gasp I sucked into my mouth. I stayed frozen on the white padding of the floor.

To hear her say the word…the word _vampire_. It made me shudder, made me think she knew more than I was telling her. I'd never spilled the secret lives of my friends. Not once did I mention their last names or their…abilities. The mythical truth of my so-called imagination remained unspoken of. I hadn't muttered a word about vampires or werewolves or anything of the sort to _anyone._ I'd never betray Edward, the Cullens. I'd never betray any of them. So, naturally, I couldn't help but break into a cold sweat when the word passed through her painted lips. It took five minutes for me to breathe as she sat watching with a smirk. I hoped that she was only reveling in what she thought was the painful blow of her cruel remark and not that she knew more than she did. But my imagination had a way of getting to me, and I couldn't help but shake with worry. What if…

"So like I was saying, the second you slipped off to sleep, your dad gunned it back here. That'd been the plan all along, of course. He was never _really _going to take you to Washington, just make you _think_ he was going to. You're unstable. You can't be there _alone._ So, here you are." She shrugged, her lips pulled up on one side, looking like a malicious, tiny, old-lady angel. Almost like Jane. Only much more annoying and not nearly as threatening.

I blinked at her.

Wow. _Wow._ So _I _had _never_ been the actress here. Everyone else around me had been the ones pulling the wool over _my_ eyes. I'd never seen it coming. Not really, anyway. I'd known that it was a possibility that the people here at this hospital didn't believe my act, but not once did I imagine that they'd pull something as big as this off without me knowing. I didn't once detect the lie in my father's eyes…in his voice. I'd thought that he almost trusted me, that he'd cared. Or maybe I _did_ know the truth. Maybe I'd known all along what they'd do with me. But I'd tried not to believe it, tried to wrap myself into the hope I'd built. I didn't want to believe that I wouldn't see Jacob, that I'd be back here. Because it was true that I'd gotten my hopes up, thinking of Jacob. I was too focused on him to see the signs, the warnings — or to _accept_ that I'd seen them, anyway.

Now, with tears in my eyes, I could see every little thing that _should_ have alerted me to their deception. Like the apathy of my mother, rather than the worry she should have felt. She _hadn't_ worried because she didn't havea _reason_ to worry. She wouldn't have been alone. And then my dad pulling back the suitcase. He'd done that so I couldn't feel that it was empty. So I wouldn't know the truth…

I shook my head, feeling like I might pass out. I was back here. Back in this hell hole, put here once again by my own parents. My own lying, deceiving, horrible parents. They didn't love me. It was quite obvious now. How could you do this to someone you loved? How could this _ever_ seem like the better option? How could this possibly be seen as _good_ for me? Jacob would never have done this to me. Neither would Edward. And now I wouldn't even be able to find them. I wouldn't even be able to look. I couldn't stand knowing that. I couldn't stand it. I clutched at myself, feeling the room shrink around me, trying to contain the mass hysteria that was my constant pain. As I started to sob, Carol slipped out of the room, bored with my recurring emotions. Some psychiatrist _she_ was.

I shriveled against the floor, feeling everything and nothing all at once. My life was shot, my hope—shot. My luck had never existed. I'd never even had a chance. Maybe love was eternally lost for me. Maybe it just hadn't been my destiny to find true happiness. Maybe it _was_ a dream, and that dream, that taste of life, was the only happiness I'd ever get. Maybe that's why I'd dreamt it, because subconsciously, I'd known that I'd never be provided with any _real_ joy, real love. So I'd tried to bury myself inside of my own longing, my imagination. I'd tried to hide away there, to build a life there which I'd never have to leave. But I'd failed. I'd woken up, come back. And I couldn't get back there anymore. Not permanently, not like before. Sure, I continued still ever since that night to hold tight to my dreams, seeing the beautiful faces in my sleep every night, but it just wasn't the same. It wasn't real. Just dreams. Simple, shallow dreams. And I'd never see more than that, more than the image of their faces in my head, circling, taunting me with lust. I'd never see them with my eyes, really, truly before me. Because I was trapped here.

I was a prisoner.

I used all the strength I had to lift my head from the soft ground, feeling the muscles in my neck strain as I did so. Then, with all the force I could muster, I brought my head back down into the floor, hard and fast, hoping to knock myself out. I just couldn't deal with the pain of the realization. I couldn't handle it. If I wasn't insane already, I would be soon. Very soon. I'd never see Jacob. I wondered if he missed me, thought about me. If he existed. If he knew _I_ existed. The pain continued to deepen inside of my chest, opening up into the fiery pits of hell. It felt like something had broken loose inside of me, eating me alive from the inside out. If it hadn't been such torture, I would have let it take me.

But I needed something quicker than that.

I smashed my face into the floor once more, but neither time did it work. The padding was just too soft. Too irritatingly soft. It was just a useless attempt to rid of my pain, just like every other sorry excuse of my days. Nothing worked. Because maybe I didn't deserve the peace of death, of unconsciousness, without the stabbing pain of dreams or the wake of confusion to an insane asylum. I just wasn't worth it. I was just a stupid, insane, worthless piece of trash. And nobody cared about me. Not even my own parents. Not even Jacob.


	8. Animal

**(Disclaimer- im no irritable grizzly.)**

_you know whats weird? every time that i go to type "insane asylum" I always wind up trying to type  
"asane insylum" instead. its really annoying. haha. but anyway, I know this story is a little weird, but it  
will get better. theres just so much...stuff she has to get through first. meanwhile she is literally driving herself  
insane. but the better, more exciting stuff should be here in two chapters. just this one and the next one  
and they'll be a little more interesting, not as crazy. but please bear with me.  
thanks for the reviews. and please keep them coming. im not getting a lot of them, i noticed, and  
i'm not sure if its just because people no longer care for the story and dont want to review or if  
people just haven't been reading it lately or whatever.. i don't know. but yeah. oh and the chapters  
will be coming a little slower i think, for this upcoming week, because i'll be in a different state visiting family..  
but i'll try to sneak on the computer as much as i can.  
and, if we could, i'd really like to try for double the amount of reviews for this story as my last one.  
that'd be really cool. so. please, review. or don't..i guess. haha.  
agh. im a loser. whatever. haha. don't mind my rambling. just read. _

Animal

I'd been sitting in here for three whole days. In the little hole that was now the sun to my dull universe — my cage, my padded cell. Anger was no longer an emotion, but an entity, taking up space in my head, filling every cavity of my heart, every nook of my body, every stretch of my veins. It flowed soundlessly inside of me, subtle, restrained. Clever. It sat waiting for the pounce, the pounce I'd been planning. I rarely thought anymore—not in these past few days. Most of my actions were instinctual, and I wondered wordlessly to myself—in the brief moments I could control my brain—what had happened to make me this way. It was as if, over the expanse of time I'd spent in this place, I'd been secretly injected with venom. A sweet, sweet venom that I'd once craved for with every ounce of my heart and soul. A venom I'd once pleaded for, begged a beautiful immortal for, pleaded for him to engrave my veins with his teeth, bind me to him. It was like someone had rushed me into this transformation of human to monster without ever letting me know. There was no pain. Just a new, voracious, bloodthirsty creature lingering in my muscles, forcing me to crouch in the small room. I felt like a vampire. A horrible, evil vampire.

My eyes tightened as I knew they would, my face twisting, head tipping to the side. I imagined the expression on my face to be purely wicked, predatory. I'd seen the look in my eyes so many times when I'd gone home for that empty week. I'd seen the rapacious craving that they held, the string of insanity that kept them darting from left to right. I was surely, rapidly, falling into the madness I'd been accused of. An animal. A monster. I listened intently, rocking forward on the balls of my feet, listening as the monster in my head whispered softly, poisonously, for me to ready myself for what I knew was coming. For what I was going to have to do.

It wouldn't be long before the carnivorous animal swallowed me completely, took over, demolished the human being that floated torpidly in the shadows of my dizzy head. It wouldn't be long at all. I could feel it coming. Feel it in the tendons, the muscles, feel it in the curling of my fingers, the stretch of my calves as I leaned intently forward, pressing my ear hard against the white wall where it opened into a door.

I had a plan. A plan that would shove the monster into control. A plan that wasn't even really mine at all. No, this plan was a creation of animal instinct. Or maybe it was the lunacy finally taking over. I couldn't decide. All that seemed clear to me was the actions pulsing through my arms and legs, the straining of my ears for the sound that would alert the beginning of my criminal task. I sneered menacingly at the almost inaudible sound of metal turning, the doorknob, rotating unwillingly beneath the hand of my victim on the other side of the white wall. Though I knew it wouldn't open yet without the key, adrenaline rolled through my veins, pleasure lifting my mouth into a tempted smile. This would be dangerous. All of it. But it would be fun, amusing, in a way.

The grin faltered as the human in me cringed, realizing how insane I was becoming. It was disgusting — how eager I was for this. I felt myself panic, felt the blood drain from my face, my eyes filling with dread. I didn't want to do this. I didn't want to be capable of doing this. But I needed to. I stood slowly, waiting, my eyes closed, my other senses heightening peculiarly. I slipped into the back of my mind, letting the madman creep forward, letting it control me. I was glad for the moment to have this horrid part of me take over. I wouldn't have been able to do this alone. My teeth sunk into the insides of my cheeks as I silently stole a deep breath. My eyelids separated without hurry, ears intent on the sound of clattering keys, the sound of the correct key finally digging into the lock. My chest puffed out, my teeth fastening around the steadying breath I'd filched.

The door splintered open. In the darkness, I saw the silvery hair as Carol stepped in. I watched her move, seemingly in slow motion. I knew, with a surge of sick enjoyment, that she expected nothing from me. Nothing at all. Nothing like this. I felt the satisfied smile spill out over my lips once again. My heart was pumping in my chest, my arms aching in their attempts to remain unmoving. I wanted nothing other than to pounce. To pounce hard. Like I knew she would, Carol spun herself around to secure the door, her back to me, sheathed in purple lace. I had only seconds left.

In the confined corner of my head, I was still panicking, trying to think through the options once more. There had to be another way, right? This wasn't the only option! I could surely come up with a safer way…a better, less harmful way. The delicate shell of sanity shuddered in my brain, whimpering. But that part of me was just_ that _— a shell. The monster was in control now, moving my arms and legs, slithering closer to the target, readying itself like a snake for a mouse. A lion for a lamb. My heartbeat quickened in pace.

I wondered what my hands were preparing for — the strangling of her small neck, or the quicker, easier blow to her head?

I didn't have to wait long to find out.

As she turned back to face me, my right arm slowly inched its way across my chest, my fist lingering over my left shoulder, preparing myself. She hadn't even seen me yet. What a surprise it would be when she _did_ catch sight. The muscles in my arm burned with an icy fire as my fingers curled in on my palms, my body angling itself to the side a bit. My legs were bent slightly at the knees, adrenaline pushing me forward, hate fueling my actions. My right fist shook above my left shoulder as I dove toward her, swinging my arm out as though to backhand her, but instead, I drove my right elbow into the center of her face. A startled gasp escaped her lips, a cracking sound splitting into the air, just as the pain reverberated through my arm, quickly making its way throughout the rest of me, settling in my core, shaking me. Rapidly, it doubled back, hard and stinging. I repressed a groan, repeating the violent act. I had no choice now.

I had to get her unconscious.

Fury burst free at the sight of her swaying figure. Why wouldn't she fall? I swung my fist into the pulsing red of her features this time, pouring every bit of force my body could produce into the action, feeling the blood ooze down over my fingers. My stomach churned as she dropped to the floor. A reddened heap. Unconscious, pained, mauled. Her blood was on _my_ hands. I was the monster to do this to her. I bent over, heaving. I could feel the vomit pitching up out of my stomach, flowing out onto my tongue. I swallowed most of it, but some escaped my lips, toppling out to color the floor. I felt so dizzy. I swayed in horror of myself, no longer left with any other options. There would be no sitting down to talk about this later. What was done was done. The past could not be altered. I had to carry on with my plan.

I averted my eyes from the gory mess, reaching blinding for the strap on her hip, the one that held every key to every room in this building. Conveniently, the one to my room was still sticking out slightly, closer than the rest, making it easy to identify. Perhaps this should have elated me, calmed me — the fact that I wouldn't have to waste time with faulty keys — but I still was too sickened by my own actions. My bloodied hands trembled as I ripped the key from the chain.

I had no idea how long it would be before she woke up. No idea at all. It could be minutes or hours or even _seconds._ But I couldn't leave like this, all covered in blood.

I spun the woman's scarf out from around her neck, flinching as her limp body rolled with the force of my pulling arms. I felt the tears in my eyes — the guilty, accountable tears — as I ripped my hands and arms through the dry back of the scarf, ridding them of the horrible scene, wishing that my mind, too, could be cleansed of what just happened. What I just did. But it didn't work. The image stayed plastered in front of my eyes, even when I looked away.

The monster in me scoffed at my weakness as I pulled up onto my knees.

I spun around, anxious, my eyes darting to and from, searching for danger as I tiptoed into the hallway. With one last look at the woman I'd just massacred, I swiftly shut the door, locking it. Locking her inside. I couldn't be sure if this was the only key to the room or not. I didn't know. I supposed there would be extras, and half of me hoped that was true. That someone would find her here and help her, get her to a hospital.

The less human half of me growled vehemently, angered again by the sympathy I felt, wanting nothing more than to have her sit there on that floor as I'd done for so many months. For her to sit there and suffer, leak out every pinch of the foul being she was, taint the perfectly white room with the putrid crimson swimming from her mouth.

I shuddered cripplingly for one single moment before the fear took hold of me, weaving in around my muscles. Then suddenly, no longer in control of myself, again, my legs flipped forward, carrying me desperately down the hall. I pressed my back against the walls, watching for guards. There weren't any here in this hall. Not that I could see. I hurried forward, inching cautiously around the bend when I hit the corner. I needed to go. I needed to run. I had to flee.

I was a felon now. I'd probably end up on _America's Most Wanted_ or something. But I did what I had to. Because I needed to find Jacob and Edward. I needed to prove to myself and to all of those horrible people that I wasn't crazy.

But even if I did find them…would that prove me sane? Or would what I'd just done cancel out the reality of my so-called dreams? Maybe I really was just completely insane, unstable. I had no idea whether I was or not. I didn't recognize myself.

My foot slid past the sharp edge of the corner, my face tight, eyes wary. My heart slowed, started quickly, and slowed again. I could feel the pulse of my blood thudding throughout every inch of me, the vibration of my veins so strong that I was sure, if I were to be seen at all, I'd appear to be throbbing. My eyes narrowed as I snuck a peek into the next hallway, crossing my fingers. _Please don't let anyone be down here, please don't let anyone be down here!_

The path was vacant.

I let out a silent sigh of relief, feeling my body relax the slightest bit, no longer as stiff as before, but still afraid. I dashed down the hall, trying to keep quiet. It was a difficult thing to do. The quiet echo of my feet lapping at the linoleum hummed in circles around me, terrifying me, causing me to quake with panic. Like I was afraid would happen, my right foot accidentally hooked around my left heel clumsily and I fell, skidding into the wheeled tub of laundry sitting on the side. The noise that resulted was muffled, but not enough. My chest nearly broke apart over the abrupt explosion of my heart as it took off in a sprint, my body freezing in the moonlight, eyes ripping away from the outside world as I could visibly see it through the glass wall to my left. I waited, listening for some sign that I'd been detected. I didn't even breathe. Cold sweat beaded along my forehead.

There was nothing.

I crawled forward on my hands on knees, terrified and frantic for the exit. I knew exactly where I was going, exactly where I wouldn't be discovered. I was going to the restricted section of the hospital, the part where only released patients, families, and workers were allowed access to. I knew that it wouldn't be hard to leave through that door, that there would be no alarm there. It was the one door without an alarm, but also the one with the most protection, the most bodyguards. I stiffened as I crawled to the edge of yet another corner.

The hall I needed was to my right.

My plan had been to wait until someone found Carol. I had no doubt in my mind that she would make a commotion, call attention to herself the second she woke up and realized what'd happened. That would at least divert some of the attention from me to her. Though not all of it. And not enough of it, either. But really, I didn't know where to go from there. I was trapped in the middle of the hospital, sitting out in the open, waiting for something unknown.

I felt my face crumpling as it fell into my hands in defeat. I'd never make it out of here. Never. I'd be caught. It was stupid to have tried this, to have thought that I could pull something like this off. What did I think I was, some kind of mastermind? Houdini? I definitely wasn't. I was just a stupid girl trying to catch up to a stupid dream just so that she could find out that none of it existed. So she could crumble into a pile of devastation at the feet of her own failure. I was so dumb to have done this.

Suddenly, a loud noise sounded around me, and the agony gripping my heart squeezed tighter, entwining with fear. I shook in my little place on the ground, clutching the wall for support. The sound was horrible, deafening. My eyes filled with tears as the sound of many footsteps collided with my reluctant ears. I started to cry.

I was found.


	9. Fate

**(Disclaimer- I own a spider monkey named bellaaa. that would seriously be cool..  
having a spider monkey and naming it bella. hmm.)**

_woo. so last night .. or this morning, rather, i stayed up until four in the morning and wrote a WHOLE BUNCH  
of new chapters. haha. i just couldn't seem to get myself to stop. so I'm going to give you two new ones, seeing  
as I might be a little busy for a while with visiting the family. i'm leaving tonight.. for a really long road trip.  
and it is going to really stink. i hope i dont get car sick. :( wish me luck.  
alright. read and review! thanks for the reviews, by the way! _

Fate

I stood shakily from the floor, my knees weak. More than anything, I missed him. Not Jacob or Edward this time, but Charlie. I missed him, terribly. The rush of emotion stunned me, my eyes flipping wide, feet staggering back. I collided sharply with the wall, and for a split second, I was completely unaware of my surroundings. I missed the loud roar of his snoring, the sound of his feet slapping against the wooden floor on his way to my room in the middle of the night, the sound of his angered voice as he yelled at Edward for proposing to me. I missed the odd taps he'd planted on my shoulder when I was upset, the tenacity of his will as he tried to push me into a relationship with Jacob, the crinkly-eyed smile, the curly brown of his receding hairline. It was a wonder to me how I could miss these things, these things that had once irritated me. It was strange to think that I would miss him, now, of all times. But I knew that if he were here, he would protect me. Though he wouldn't have approved of my recent actions, he would have protected me. He wouldn't have let me stay here. Or at least that's that I hoped. Maybe he would have. Maybe I was just longing for a parent that actually cared. Someone who would help me.

But then reality came back into play, and I was alone.

People were running, screaming. Not terrified, afraid screams, but hollered words of determination and order. The loud, ringing noise was still too close, ear-shattering. It echoed off of the glass wall to my left, kicking into my head and rocking me into the wall. It was so loud. Too loud. I couldn't think. I covered my ears, flinching as it continued, waiting still for them to find me like I knew they would.

But no one seemed to come.

The halls emptied quickly, the sounds of footsteps leaving me, chasing off in the wrong direction. My eyes widened, realizing what had happened. Someone had pulled the alarm. They must have found her, Carol. They weren't looking for me yet, but they would be. Soon. Very soon.

I had to react quickly. I only had a little bit of time to do what I had to.

I ran as fast as my legs would push me, using the wall to expel myself forward. I sprinted down the short hallway, looking for guards. There was one, but he was just beginning to turn down the other hallway, his back to me. He grabbed the gun off of his chair, fleeing into the hallway up ahead. I didn't reduce in speed. I ran like hell for the door, my arms reaching out ahead of me, desperation thickening my thoughts, making them sluggish. My mind was panicked, out of control. But it didn't slow me. I didn't need my head to tell me how to run. I tore to the left, so close. So close.

And there it was. My exit.

I almost stopped. I couldn't believe that it was happening. My escape was just a few feet away, I could almost touch it. My feet kept careening forward, pounding hard against the tiled floor as they dragged me quietly onward. My teeth clicked together in determination as my hands pushed against the glass door, sliding against it, feeling the cold surface beneath my palms. I shoved hard, not bothering to wait for it to completely open, and hopped through the small slit. Nighttime washed in over my face, the sky dotted with specks of light. My chest ached. I was away. I was free, but it could change so easily. So quickly. One wrong move and I'd be back there, trapped. I darted down the street.

--

I didn't slow until I reached the house. There, I crept into the shadows, dripping with sweat. My breath was hard and uneven, my legs throbbing in ways they'd never throbbed before. I'd never run this far in my entire life and the result was not pretty. I slumped forward, feeling like I was going to vomit, but having nothing to puke up. My head fell back, the stars around me spinning unnervingly. I wasn't doing well. I wasn't going to make it.

I clasped my hands together in front of my face, praying that my legs would not fail me so soon. _Just get me through this last part, please,_ I begged them, stepping forward. My leg shook, and, for a moment, I wasn't sure I'd put my foot down all the way. I leaned my weight into it and realized that I was standing on both feet, but I still couldn't feel it. The grass flew up to my face.

"Ugh!" I huffed, my stomach meeting a hard rock in the lawn. I groaned, rolling over, and tried, with every bit of my strength, to will my body to move properly. I didn't have time for this. I couldn't handle it, though. Me, my body, we couldn't handle it. It was too much. Beating up a sort-of-old lady, running away from the hospital, having to stay hidden. Running for miles and miles. It was dizzying. I couldn't feel my fingers. My eyelids stuttered over my eyes, flipping rapidly. I could barely stay conscious.

Without realizing that I'd moved it, my hand came down across my face. The sting of the slap had me shifting back into reality, startling me. I gasped, thankful for whatever had just powered my hand to do that, and forced my legs up, crawling to the side of the house. The key was under the eave of the back door. I snatched it, standing to throw it into the keyhole, each and every one of my muscles aching in protest. The door opened quickly under my hand and a blanket of black dropped over my face.

The kitchen was dark, but that meant nothing. They could be hiding in the shadows, waiting with the nurses from the hospital, ready to capture me. And I had no where to go. No one to save me. I gripped at my chest, horrified. I didn't want to take one step inside of that house, but I really had no choice. My arms ached, my fingers searching for a hand to hold, warm or cold, I'd take anything. Even a human. I just wanted someone to care about me, to help me, to want to see me happy. Why was everyone so bent on destroying me?

It was hard to get used to, the idea of being alone. I _wasn't_ used to it. I didn't like it. Even after that entire year in the little room, completely deserted, I still wasn't comfortable by myself. I panicked without the touch of another hand, the whisper of calming words, the remedy to my pain, the love of my beautiful men. My heart ached, forever bare. I couldn't survive without them. Not only in the dramatic sense, but in the realistic meaning of the words. I could not live. I couldn't make it. I'd wind up getting killed, one way or another. I was so hopeless. I'd never make it on my own.

What if they didn't exist? What if all this effort was for nothing? I refused to believe those things, believe that my love was simply that of my imagination. I couldn't come to terms with it. I loved them so much; I yearned to see their faces. I had to believe that they were out there, somewhere. But even as much as I loved them, I hated them, too. So much. Because my parents, the people from the hospital, they weren't the only ones doing this to me. Jacob and Edward, they were doing this to me, too. They were killing me, the images of their faces assaulting my memory day after day, second after second. I would do anything for them. I would give my _life_, and they may not have even known I'd _had_ a life. They weren't here. Where were they, when I needed protecting? I'd never felt such pain. This ache…this burn was horrible, indescribable, inescapable.

I wished that I could just force a knife through my core, kill off the flood of emotions that was keeping me in this mental state, keeping me buried under all of this lunacy. I wished I could run away, that I could fly away from here, but I didn't know where to go. I had no one. And the only two that I wanted, that I _should_ have had…they weren't here. I was still so alone.

Tears silently rolled down my face as I stared at the darkened room, empty as it seemed to be. This was my future. Dark, empty. Alone. I couldn't breathe. My figure was hurling into the dark room, lurching back. My body ached to drop to the floor, curl into a ball, let them take me. Let them do whatever they wanted with me, I didn't care. I was almost ready to give up. I couldn't deal with the pain anymore. The anger and the pain, the neglect, the betrayal. They'd all betrayed me. All of them. My parents, my Jacob, Edward. Where were they!? Where the hell were they!?

I was so ready to give up. Just give in. Surrender. I was just so tired. So very, very tired. And I was sad. I was sad and defeated and hopeless. Doomed to fail. There was so much keeping me from my happiness. I couldn't stop thinking that maybe I just didn't deserve it. Maybe it was never mine. It wasn't meant to be. I would be alone. No one loved me. Jacob hadn't ever loved me. Edward hadn't ever loved me. They weren't real. No one was real. No one cared. Not one person.

I sunk to my knees in the doorway. I couldn't see where I was anymore, not really. My eyes were fogging up with memories, swallowing me into a deep green. And then I was in the forest, sinking to the ground. Jacob was so close, but yet still so very far from me. I reached to him, saw the horrified expression on his pretty face. I felt the warmth pooling out from beneath my fingers, falling from my chest. The booming sound of the gun resonated in my head, loud and threatening. Jacob cried, coming closer. I felt my body sway, saw it sway. In real life, my body slipped forward, my face crashing into the counter. In the memory, I slipped into the grass. I watched Jacob's face with my tear-filled eyes, lingering there on the warm chocolate of his stare. Heat surrounded me, and my chest felt so much better, and still so much worse, all at once. My eyes snapped shut, death lifting me from the forest with Jacob, and it was gone.

My eyes scoured the dark kitchen around me, looking for him. I was so desperate for his face. A soft sob squeaked out from between my lips, my hands falling empty in front of my face. I wanted him so bad. I needed him. And that was all it took. Just one look at his remembered face and I had to keep going. I had to. I couldn't give up. I continued to cry as I sat up, using the door for support.

My fingers traced along the counter, searching. And then there they were, so easy to get to. The keys. Not mine, but my dad's. His little Toyota was so much quieter than mine, faster. I was going to need something like that if I wanted to get anywhere. I stuffed the keys into my palm, pressing them hard into the flesh there to keep them silent. Then I slinked out of the kitchen, closing the door behind me.

I was surprised that the police hadn't been here yet, but I didn't linger on the thought. I slithered through the darkness, weaving through the shadows that were clinging eerily to the blades of grass in my yard. My fingers curled around the handle of the car door and it opened quietly. I sat down on the leather seat, feeling drowsy. Perhaps too drowsy to drive.

_No._ I told myself. _You can't sleep now. You have to go. You're so close._

I softly started the engine, pleased that it was quiet, and backed out into the road, grabbing my father's baseball hat from the passenger seat and flipping it on over the mess of my hair, angling it so that I wouldn't easily be seen by any passing vehicles. There weren't any as of the moment, but I wasn't taking chances. I stepped hard onto the accelerator, coaxing a high number out of the speedometer. Sooner than I would have thought, I was flying down the road at eighty miles per hour. My heart was faster.

I knew that I didn't have time to run upstairs and grab my clothes, money. That was another reason I'd taken this car. My father had a habit of leaving his wallet in the console, placing his work clothes on the backseat for the next day. I could see in the rearview mirror the button down shirt and the dress pants on the back seat, the brown leather square sitting gingerly in the console.

I smiled halfheartedly, bringing my eyes back to the road. I wouldn't be able to keep this car for long. Soon enough, it would be reported stolen, and people would be on the lookout for it. I'd have to leave it somewhere between here and Washington, take off with the wallet. I'd need to change into his work clothes first, though. The white of this uniform was just _too_ white, too noticeable.

But what would I do when I had to flee from the car? Would I travel then on foot? Hitchhike? Maybe there was enough money in his wallet to take a train…Or would they be looking for me in places like that? I really hadn't had much experience with the whole criminal scene. I rarely even watched the types of shows that I would probably wind up on after this. Shows like _America's Most Wanted_ and _Snapped._ I'd maybe seen about half an episode of each before I'd gotten bored with it and sauntered off to read. I had no idea where to go, how to hide. Where would criminals go?

Should I even be thinking that, or should I be thinking instead of where they _wouldn't_ go? Because which would be more obvious, more likely for the cops to look? I had no idea. Not a clue. I shook my head angrily, my teeth clenched, and continued down the road. Why think it through? I'd escaped this far on pure instinct. Why mess with a good thing? This was working—for the most part. I'd just figure something out when I absolutely needed to. Though, who knew when that would be…I didn't know.

I sighed, my ears straining for the sound of sirens. I heard nothing, but that didn't really mean a lot. I had human ears. Fragile, unreliable human ears. The subtle prick of anger tightened my jaw as I realized again how much easier this would have been if I'd had one of them with me. Jacob or Edward. I couldn't understand what had gone wrong. Had everything I'd 'dreamt' really just been a dream? Did they not know of me? I found that very hard to believe. But wouldn't Alice have seen something, _said _something, if they _did_ know?

It took me a minute to loosen my grip on the steering wheel, my head shaking slowly, trying to deny the unreasonable anger I felt. I knew that it was stupid to be angry with them, but, in reality, I didn't think the anger was real at all anyway. I think it was just a ploy…a stupid blanket of hatred my heart had rolled itself into so it wouldn't have to feel the pain of missing them. How could I blame them when I loved them so?

Sirens blazed to the left of my stolen vehicle abruptly. My heart stopped, the car inching to a halt before the red light just ahead. My hands shook against the fabric that covered the wheel, sweat pouring too quickly from my palms. I wiped my hands against the white pants, trying to stay calm. I needed to think. I had only seconds to do that. The sirens blared closer. I gasped in terror. _Flee, or stay, pretend you're just another innocent driver?_ My mind swirled dizzyingly. I couldn't swallow an idea, couldn't get my fingers to turn the wheel, to loop the u-turn I should have made.

Just then a black car shot out from the left, cutting across the four-way intersection like a bat out of hell. I cocked an eyebrow, mouth ajar. It sped by so quickly that my neck nearly whipped itself broken trying to keep up, but I wasn't quick enough to see more than the blur. Two cop cars flew down the street behind it, trying desperately to keep up with the speed demon. I coughed out a laugh, sounding more like a choking dog than an insanely slap-happy nineteen year old girl.

_You have _got_ to be kidding me. _

It was so…unbelievable. Almost like it was destined to be. For once, fate seemed to be with me. Maybe I'd find Jacob after all. Maybe I could do this. Maybe. Just maybe.

I kicked the car into drive and sped off down the concrete path, feeling every nerve ending in my body sizzle with the heat they anticipated. _Jacob._

_**(Author's note: **haaa. can you imagine that? thank goodness for speedy black cars.**)**_


	10. Hitchhiker

**(Disclaimer- no ownage.)**

_alright. so i dont think this is my best writing at all. but i needed to give a little.. well, kind of .. bumper..  
i guess. i had to just put a little innocent chapter in here for a change. theres been a lot of drama and theres  
a WHOLE lot more to come. so this ones a little calm. and a little boring. i apologize for that.  
forks is in the next chapter, though. :D yayy! i promise it'll get better after this one. thanks for reading.  
keep on doing that, and please review.  
:D _

Hitchhiker

I hurried to undress in the back seat of the car, hoping that no one would notice me. I'd made it all the way to Wahkiakum, Washington without even so much as one more police siren reverberating through the streets behind me or even near me. It was a luck I'd never hoped for, let alone imagined I could obtain. But I could feel the earth carrying me, wishing me luck now. I belonged to Jacob, to his warm arms. Gravity kept me steering closer, and I couldn't restrain my heart from thudding louder and harder as each day flew by. I was so close. So close. I could hardly breathe.

I was pleased with the fact that my father was tall—almost as tall as Jacob. His shirt looked to be more like a dress on me, so I settled for that. I took the belt from his pants and wrapped it around my hips, ripping the sleeves from the shirt in an attempt to make it look a little more normal. I hoped I didn't look too ridiculously noticeable. The last thing I needed was _more_ attention. I tugged at the bottom of the black shirt, thankful that it was long enough to reach just below my mid-thigh. The only thing I was missing was shoes, but I guessed I just couldn't be picky. Were shoes really necessary everywhere?

Probably, unless you were insane or weird. And I didn't need people suspicious of my mental state right now.

But I had no other choice.

I scuttled out from the car, nervously, cautiously, watching as it rocked gingerly on the edge of the cliff I'd driven out on. The night sky was almost starless tonight, the land around me completely vacant. Not even the chirping of crickets was audible to my ears. Almost positive that no one would see me, I ran to the back of the car, pulling the separated sleeves over my hands, using them now as gloves. With every ounce of strength I could conjure up, I shoved against the back bumper, straining my bodyweight into the car, leaning. My feet marched steadily, and soon enough, the car was rolling. It flipped from the cliff and plummeted toward the ocean beneath it. I was glad I hadn't stopped in some other place. The water was the best place to rid of that car, though it also probably served me with a bigger plate of justice in the end. I shuddered, picturing myself painted in an orange jumpsuit, bars securing me into a different kind of cell. Not a hospital cell, a jail cell. I could have laughed at the irony of the thought, a police chief's daughter, ending up in trouble with the police. But then again, who knew if I was even Charlie's kid or not? I didn't know anything anymore.

I took off running in the direction of the street. I needed to find someplace safe to sleep for the night, but I knew instinctively that I couldn't stay there. If someone were to find me there…if they found out later who I was, what I was in for, they'd know where I'd been, probably think to look there for the car. Right? Or was I the only one crazy enough to think of such things as pushing a car off a cliff? Maybe I was just paranoid, but I still didn't feel safe here. I kept running.

--

I'd been walking for hours. Every part of me was sore with exertion, my tender feet worn and splintered with rocks and glass from the roadside. The night had been rocky; I hadn't slept for a long time. It was hard to force your eyes shut when a thousand thoughts were swirling in your head, crippling your brain with the intensity of the fear they produced. I kept wondering what I'd do if they caught me, how bad it would hurt to know that I'd gotten so close only to fail miserably in my foolish attempt. I'd considered repeatedly to just continue moving, to keep running like a lab mouse on a wheel, but my body had been too tired. I'd finally managed to fall into a light sleep in a little abandoned shed on the side of the road a long ways back. I'd woken to the sound of a scuttling mouse, probably woken the entire state with my ear-shattering squeal. I grimaced at the memory now, my feet throbbing against the gravel beneath them.

A car slowly slid along side me, the driver taking in my disheveled state. I'd almost forgotten the thumb I'd stuck in the air, my arm had lost nearly all feeling. I blushed a bright crimson, averting my eyes from the man's face as he pulled over, right next to me. A swift shock of fear pierced my heart, wondering what I was getting myself into. What if he had a knife? What if he tried to hurt me? I shivered in the damp morning air, debating whether I should just run away or not. He looked me over considerably.

"You in some kind of trouble?" He asked. I held back a groan. Great, so I _did _look suspicious. I nodded slowly, not having too hard of a time feigning the look of fear on my face. Terror was the strongest emotion I _could_ feel at the moment, mixed in with the desperation and indecision. I pursed my lips. His eyes tightened warily. "What kind of trouble?" His voice was soft, suspicious as it was, and deep. Almost pretty—for a human, anyway.

I had trouble trying to find my voice for a minute, to produce the lie from my lips. He noticed, bowing his head deeper towards his chest, eyeing me. And then, unintentionally, I burst into tears. If I hadn't been so embarrassed, I would have been pleased with myself. This added so much more depth to my lie, made it that much more believable. I knew that I would need all the dramatics I could get. I wasn't good at lying.

Automatically, the passenger door popped open, the man's eyes widening in shock and concern. He motioned for me to get into the car, but, stupidly, I shook my head, the tears shaking off of my face. I continued to sob there on the side of the road, looking like a lost child. His face crumpled further into sympathy. He motioned again.

"It's okay, honey. It's alright. You can trust me." He ushered me into the car with one hand, his eyes persuasive and pitying. I clenched my teeth against the sobs, restricting them from breaking free of my mouth, and pushed my leg forward with my hand. Reluctantly, slowly, I climbed into the blue car, my heart hammering in my chest. A deep voice filled my ears, a feral growl followed by a torrent of angered words.

_"Bella, don't you _dare_ get into that man's car! What do you think you're doing! No, Bella! No!" _Edward's voice. I gasped, unthinkingly throwing my head back against the seat, looking around for his face. There was nothing. And then I realized what had happened. I was in danger, and I was hearing voices again. Did this still mean that he loved me, like it had that last time? Or was I just so hopeless as to conjure it up, to imagine the voice so that I'd feel more secure in what I thought was my identity? So I'd be more secure in thinking that I was Bella, because Edward's voice had warned me? I shook my head, not knowing which to believe, completely shocked still. It wasn't until the man reached over and lightly touched my shoulder that I remembered where I was.

"Miss?" He looked at me, and for the first time, I actually saw _him_, too. His hair was short, chocolate brown. His eyes were the brightest shade of blue I'd ever seen, his complexion fair, but not anywhere near as pale as Edward. His lips pursed as my eyes racked over him, his gray shirt, his light blue jeans. His head nearly touched the ceiling of the car. I tore my eyes away from him, feeling a little discomfited again. I sniffled, humming a note with a question mark tied to the end of it in response.

"Hmm?"

"Would you mind telling me what happened to you?" He asked gently, pulling the car into park. I trembled in my seat, wishing I'd brought pepper spray or something to defend myself. Not all people were as small as Carol, and I didn't think I could out-muscle anyone my size or bigger. I pressed my lips together tightly, thinking, before answering. I was still crying quietly, and the tears added a nice touch to my story.

"My boyfriend kicked me out." I sobbed. His eyebrows pulled together in confusion, but that was all I would give him, unless he prodded more, which I expected he would. He scooted closer, as if to hear me better, and asked me what I was talking about. I concealed a sigh, flipping through the fabricated drama of my imaginary night with _my boyfriend._

"He said he wanted to see other people, that I needed to leave. I'd been staying with him and I didn't have a car or anything…he wouldn't let me take anything. I didn't even have time to get my shoes. He just…kicked me out." I looked up at him then, sniffling, the tears running down my face. I learned that lying about being miserable and alone was much easier when I actually _was_ miserable and alone, even if for different reasons than I'd told him. His eyes were soft, but incredulous, as I continued through the story.

"I've been out walking for hours now…I slept in this old shed last night. I had no place else to go. I don't have any money." I looked at him apologetically now, as if he expected cash for his driving services. I didn't really know if he would. Were hitchhikers normally expected to pay for the rides they were given? I frowned beneath all the tears, secretly happy I'd gotten rid of the wallet and tucked the money into my bra. I almost hadn't done it, weirded out by the idea, but there weren't any pockets in the shirt, and I didn't have anything else, like shoes…

His voice shot me out of my reverie and into a state of subtle shock. He seemed almost angry. He shook his head slowly, a look of disgust mingling oddly with one of empathy on his features. "He just kicked you out, without even so much as _shoes_ to cover your _feet?_" I nodded when he paused. "Where does this jerk live? I'd like to have a talk with him." He pushed the car into drive, foot edging toward the gas pedal. I stopped breathing. Oh crap.

"No, please don't. I don't want to face him." I squeaked pathetically, my heart racing in my chest. He nodded understandingly, his warm hand reaching out to pat my bare leg. I raised an eyebrow, knowing he couldn't see me, focused as he was on his wild u-turn. I felt uncomfortable, but I knew intuitively that he wouldn't hurt me.

"It's okay, honey. You can stay in the car. I'm going to get your shoes back." He didn't sound like he was up for debating, but I couldn't help but think of ways to keep him from driving to the invented location. He muttered under his breath as I dredged my mind for some kind of diversion. I caught a few colorful words lighting up his vocabulary.

"No, please." I begged. "Please don't. I just want to get home. I don't care about my shoes. I just want to forget about this all and get home." My voice cracked on the last word, my tone pitching up much higher than usual. The words spilling from my mouth had much more truth than they were meant to have, and the hole in my chest seemed to deepen and quake. I keeled over, falling forward in the seat, no longer quite capable of keeping a hold on my self-control. I was hyperventilating.

He gasped. "Okay! Okay, honey. It's alright. I won't take you back there. I promise, okay?" His hand rubbed anxious circles into my back, meaning to comfort me. Tremors of agony ripped at my spine, my hands vibrating as they hung loosely by my feet. I just wanted Jacob. I just wanted it to be over.

I calmed a bit as he turned the car back in the correct direction, looking at me with worried glances every few seconds. It felt nice to have someone actually care about my well-being for once. He seemed like such a nice man. I wished I could stay friends with him after this, but I knew that would be impossible. He would never be able to see me again. I couldn't risk it.

"What's your name, sweetie?" He asked, taking my hand in his. This, too, was done in the attempts of comfort, not for any romantic reason. The heat felt nice against my fingers. I curled mine around his, my breath coming a little more even. I was so pathetic. Then I realized what he'd asked. And I panicked. What would I tell him? I couldn't say Bella or Anna. I knew they would be looking for that, the policemen, the hospital workers.

"What?" I asked, trying to buy myself some time. He looked at me, repeating his question. I pursed my lips, eyes narrowing. I saw good reason in not telling him, a good reason that I didn't think he'd be able to argue with. "Should I really be telling you my name? I don't know you or anything…" I mumbled innocently, quietly, staring at my lap.

He chuckled. "Would you really be getting into cars with strangers if you were that worried? I mean, what could be worse, telling your name, or getting into a _car_ with me? I could have been a murderer! You wouldn't have known. But I'm not, and your name is safe with me." He chuckled again. "Though it's a little hard to believe you're so worried about protecting your name when you weren't nearly as worried about your _life._"

That was the thing. I _wasn't_ so worried about my life. If I died, I looked at it as though it was just the end of my suffering. If heaven was anything like I'd imagined it to be, then I'd have everything I loved there with me. I wouldn't be so alone, so anguished and horrified. But after all I'd been through, I was beginning to think of reincarnation as more of an afterlife. So maybe I'd just be put back here…to go through the same misery. But either way, dying was better than being sent back to that place. So I had much better reason to protect my name. Only he couldn't know that. So I just made one up to make him happy.

"Riley." I whispered. He looked at me, his eyebrows knitting together for a minute. He seemed confused, shaking his head slowly at me, about to question the word. "My name." I answered before he could ask, using the same faint tone. His head lifted back, his mouth opening slightly as if to say a silent "oh."

"Kyle." He said, offering his own name in return. I smiled tentatively, blinking at him, my eyelashes still wet. His expression softened, the amusement there fading. "How old are you, Riley?" He asked. I pursed my lips. His amusement returned, pulling up the left side of his mouth. His eyes crinkled as he side-smiled, looking at me knowingly. He chuckled under his breath, seeming to have known I wouldn't answer. I surprised us both when I did.

"I'm eighteen." I told him curtly. My own eyes widened as the words fell from my mouth, but I was happy that at least I hadn't told the truth. I'd kept it a year short, still being careful. He looked me over carefully, speculating. His hand was still in mine. My wrist was going numb, sprawled out across the console. He suddenly, somehow, seemed to notice this, and lowered our hands so that the back of mine was resting on my leg. He kept his skin a safe distance from the flesh of my leg. I stared at our entwined fingers.

"You don't look eighteen." He admitted after a few minutes. I could sense he thought I was lying, but I wasn't sure whether he meant that I looked older or younger. I'd bet on younger. I tried to keep the conversation casual, though the twenty questions were putting my stomach on edge, my feet itching to flee.

"I get that a lot." I told him. And that had been true, when I was eighteen. I hadn't gotten a whole lot of "you don't look nineteen" yet because, well, I'd kind of been locked in a mental hospital for the entire year, and the only person who'd asked me about my age since then was him, and I'd lied about it.

He nodded slowly. "I'm twenty one." He said. I nodded, too. I'd figured as much, but I didn't tell him that. It wasn't really necessary, and I was too preoccupied by the slow speed he was traveling at. My teeth clenched, watching the little stick inch past the thirty mark, trying to contain a growl. My patience was wearing thin, no matter how nice my cabbie was, and I wanted to get to Forks as soon as possible. My body convulsed with impatience and irritation, trying to hold in a scream. Never once did I think I'd have to tell anyone to drive faster. Everyone that meant anything always drove faster than me, anyway. But this was the rare exception. He noticed the quivering of my hands.

"I'm sorry." He apologized. I raised an eyebrow. Could he read my thoughts? "Does this bother you?" He inclined his head toward our clasped hands. I felt my stomach loosen a bit, relaxing, as I realized what he meant. I shook my head quickly, feeling a little guilty for the subtle sting I detected in his voice.

"No, no. This is fine. Thanks." I smiled shyly, hoping he'd know that I was thanking him for all of his help, automobile-wise and comfort-wise. He deserved better than the lies I was feeding to him, but I couldn't give him the truth. It was too dangerous. "I just…I really miss my house. I want to be home so badly…" I murmured.

Thankfully, the speedometer suddenly hitched up to sixty. I sighed in relief.

"Right. Sorry. So, Riley, where is home?" He asked, tightening his fingers around mine and smiling. I smiled back, excited for a change. We were getting closer. Jacob was getting closer.

"La Push." I answered. I felt my stomach flutter as I realized what I'd said, knowing I'd meant to say Forks. But hey, his home  
was my home, was it not? Or had that changed? My jaw clenched, my heart giving a little squeeze of its own.

I guess we were going to find out.


	11. Friend

**(Disclaimer- if i owned twilight, i wouldn't be typing up a disclaimer.)**

_This may be really short. I'm not sure. I'm on a different computer and everything  
is much bigger than it really should be. so i have no idea. and I don't think that this  
is my best writing, either, because i was kind of rushing to write this in the living room  
of my grandparents whom i'm visiting as of the moment, but it is a chapter, right?  
so here we go. another one. more will be coming. and she'll find out if ed and jake  
exist in just a couple of chapters time. kayyyy?  
so be patient. and thank you VERY much for reading this. i love you all.  
read and review please. :D_

Friend

"Are you sure this time?" Kyle checked, tapping my hand with his pinky finger. "You're not going to change your mind again, right?"

I ducked my head, a warm spread of scarlet covering my face. Clearing my throat quietly, I nodded. "No mind-changing, guaranteed." I replied, watching the street roll underneath us, blackened with cement and faded with age. I kept my jaw tight, my eyes safely away from his face. I didn't know how well my new lie would work on him, whether I'd secured myself in where I was actually going. I hadn't realized until afterward that I shouldn't have told him to take me to La Push. If anyone had found him, and he had been able to identify me, he'd know exactly where to find me: La Push. So I'd told him that I'd made a mistake. Told him to take me to Olympia, instead.

I'd find some other way to get back to La Push. As long as Jacob was safe from the searching annoyances that were inevitably after me.

I sighed, leaning my chin on my one available palm. The other hand lay limp against my thigh, palm up, covered in his. I caught him grinning in my peripheral, and the curiosity momentarily stole my need for no eye contact. I looked at him, inquiries written on my face. He stared back, the road still spilling out in front of us. I realized too late that it should have bothered me that he wasn't paying it any attention. After all, his attention span was just about as big as mine. He wasn't Edward or Jacob. Just Kyle. Just human.

"It's nice, holding your hand. And it is amusing to me, seeing as you're only a stranger. But I'm oddly glad that I picked you up. Little hitchhiker that you are." His words were slow and kind, maybe too warm. I looked away from him quickly, acting on impulse after reading the gentle blue of his eyes. I thought about ripping my hand from his in fear, though I was not afraid at all, but I reconsidered. He was my only ride to Olympia, and he was nice. I didn't think I could get a much better ride than him, and I didn't want to test the theory. I decided not to hurt his feelings.

His fingers tightened around mine, trying to reassure me, noticing the sudden humiliation displayed on my face. I grimaced.

"So," He said casually, changing the subject. "Why La Push, anyway?"

My head shot up so I could read his expression. It was simply curious, not suspicious in the least bit, but my heart kicked up in speed nevertheless. I shook my head, perhaps too quickly. He didn't seem to notice. "No. Olympia, remember?" I disagreed. He chuckled lightly.

"Oh, I know. But what made you say La Push to begin with?"

I gulped, a shaky breath escaping my lips, sounding less like a laugh than I'd meant it to. I pursed my lips. I didn't have an answer for him. I had nothing to say. I could feel the palms of my hands getting warm and sweaty. He sighed, his fingers loosening around my hand, whether because he could feel the newly damp skin there, or because he could sense that he'd made me uncomfortable. This, for some reason, though, made me panic. It was my turn to grip his fingers tighter now.

"Too much information for you, huh? I don't see why you don't trust me yet. I mean, I get that you don't know me…but what trouble would it get you in for me to know little trivial things like that? I won't do anything to hurt you. Haven't I proven that much by now?" He sounded hurt when he spoke, though the tormented words were obviously meant to be relaxed, offhand. I scowled at the dashboard, wishing I didn't have to be so cruel to him.

But there really was nothing else that I could do in this situation. He _could_ hurt me, though maybe he wouldn't want to. But what choice would he have? Would he really go as far as lying to the police for me? For some strange girl he picked up on the side of the road and held hands with for a while? Would he do that? A part of me believed that he actually _would_ do that for me, but the more cynical side was in charge as of the moment. I just couldn't chance it. I couldn't. I'd allowed too much trust in people who later betrayed me. I didn't want to add onto the list, especially not after finding this one person who actually seemed to care. I didn't want to have to find out that he didn't care that much at all in the end. It'd hurt too much.

I sat in silence, refusing to answer. He didn't question me again, though the silence flickered into a much more uncomfortable and tense state. He seemed to realize just how little I did trust him, and he accepted it, though his pout was not quite as undetectable as he seemed to have hoped.

Silently, the drive continued on.

--

"Here you are." He pulled up to the curb of the college. The sign was big, the letters spelling out the word "Evergreen" in a way that could only be described as ominous. I pursed my lips, feeling a tingling fear creep its way into my stomach. I knew that my anxiety was due not only to the fact that I'd soon be looking for another way to get back to my destination, which had once been just _so_ close to where I sat in this blue car, but it also was due to the fact that the suspicion I'd been waiting for was now masking Kyle's face. I swallowed hard as he watched me with narrowed eyes.

"So, you're telling me that you're going to be able to get into this college looking like you are?" His eyes grazed over me, widening suggestively to express his meaning. And I knew what he meant. I was bruised and dirtied, barely clothed and tear-stained. I was a mess, and it was obvious. No one in their right mind would allow me into their facility. I grinded my teeth.

"I told you. I know someone who goes here. She'll let me stay with her so I can get cleaned up. Don't worry about me." Only half of it was a lie. I didn't know someone _here, _but I did know someone who would let me get cleaned up. Only he was back in La Push. Away from me. Probably unaware of the fact that I existed.

I hoped Kyle didn't notice the intense longing that crossed my face as I hugged my chest.

"Whatever you say." He said, shrugging his hand from mine. His arm then extended out in front of me, gesturing for me to leave. His face was tight with whatever emotion he was trying hard not to convey. I tried to keep my face blank, too, as I wiggled out the door. I didn't know where I would go from here. I was thinking over my options as my feet uncertainly hit the gravel beneath me.

But I didn't get too far.

His hand caught my wrist before I'd taken five steps down the path of the campus. Dark surrounded us as he stepped close beside me. I hadn't heard him get out of the car.

"Tell me the truth." He demanded. His voice was hard and thick with what seemed to me like betrayal. My eyes widened as I tried to locate his face in the black night. My hand found it before my eyes did, and I slid the skin of my fingers over his face, trying to see if it was as angry as it sounded. He sighed against my fingertips as they slowly passed over his mouth and I wrenched my hand away, stepping back. His grip on my wrist restricted me from straying far. I gasped.

"Please. I know that you're lying. I won't ask too many questions, I won't do or say anything you don't want me to. Hell, I won't even open my eyes. I'll let you drive, if you want to. I just don't want to drop you off here and find you dead some day down the road. Don't let me be responsible for your death. I'm begging you. Just let me take you back to La Push or wherever it is that you want to go. Just so you're safe." He pulled me under the street light as he half-shouted at me, and the glow fell over his face like a faint imitation daylight. I gaped at his angry, pleading face. He seemed so desperate to keep me safe. I choked back the tears that rose in my eyes and throat, trying to conceal the overwhelming emotion swelling in my chest. In the past year and a half, no one had seemed to care about me, to treat me like an actual human being. But this man, this stranger, seemed to care more than anyone I'd ever known, anyone who I was sure existed…unless I was making _this_ up in my dreams, _too._

I didn't want to leave him. But I had to.

I shook my head, feeling the tears fly free. He blinked as the salted drops collided with his face, his expression pained. He knew my answer. This stranger who knew me so well, though he didn't even know my name. His jaw tightened as he watched the jerky motion of my shaking skull. His hand moved down to mine, connecting us.

"I'm sorry." I said, attempting to quiet my pathetic, unnecessary sobs. His hand clamped over my mouth before I could finish; the look on his face was fierce and determined, slightly angered. His jaw was tight, teeth clenched. His other hand released mine, grabbing at my shoulder instead. He shook me gently.

"Riley. I'm not letting you stay out here alone. You're so little. Don't you see the danger in this? Are you suicidal? No offense, but by this time I could actually believe it if you were. I don't want to hurt you. I don't care what kind of mess you're in. It's obvious that you lied about that whole boyfriend story. I know it isn't true. And I don't _care_. I just don't want your blood on _my_ hands. Let me get you where you're going. Please."

I wanted so much just to tell him everything, to ask him to help me find my friends, but I only shook my head, my hands flicking between us, pushing against his chest. He stumbled back a bit; his eyes were confused and upset. Blue rivers of concern, anger, scorning. I growled at him through clenched teeth to leave me alone, feeling a dull ache powering up in my chest. He pursed his lips, shaking his head. My heart let off a weak little explosion beneath the cage of ribs. The only sane piece of my head, the only real friend, though a stranger he was, was gone. I was making him leave. And it killed me. I couldn't deal with it, but I couldn't do anything about it. I had no choice.

So I ran. I ran hard and fast. Away from him. And he was gone.


	12. Empty

**(Disclaimer- i wouldn't be typing this. nope.)**

_okay so. i must admit that I LOVE this chapter. i was so emotional while typing it.  
blah. but. you, the reader, however, may not enjoy it so very much. :) PLEASE leave reviews!  
i tried to get this chapter up yesterday and the day before but it just wouldn't let me. OH. and chapter  
thirteen is finished already. so is fourteen. so they'll be up really soon. the more reviews I get, the faster  
i'll update. :) thanks. readddd!_

Empty

I lifted the map I'd bought with the secret stash of green in my bra. It was a good map, one that detailed every town on their own separate pages. Just what I needed. I was glad I'd bought it, though not happy with the danger I'd put myself in while doing so. Staring intently at the squiggled lines adorning the picture, I remembered the cashier's reaction to the mess that was my appearance as I trudged into the store demanding for a map of Washington that dark night. It'd been late. I hadn't even been aware of the numbers flashing red on his digital clock as he rung up the two simple items I'd bought. He'd watched me with cautious eyes as I scarfed down the remainders of the newly purchased Poptart right there in the middle of the store. He'd leaned toward the phone on the counter as I flashed a phony smile in his direction and dashed out the door. He'd looked at me like he expected me to rob him, attack him. He'd looked at me like he was afraid, like I was a psycho. Like it was painstakingly obvious I'd broken out of a loony bin.

I shuddered now at the mere memory, the same spasm of panic breaking down over my back as it had when I'd stared into his suspicious emerald eyes. I was so afraid to fail. So afraid. I couldn't get caught now. I'd come too far for that, for everything to just fall apart. I'd put so much effort into getting this far. I didn't plan on going back, no matter what it took. I would gladly hold a gun to anyone who got in my way. I doubted I'd ever be able to actually _use_ the gun, but I could pretend that I was capable of doing so. Though, of course, I knew I couldn't let it come to that. I was just going to have to be more careful. Or, according to the map I was investigating, I actually wouldn't have to be _that_ careful now after all. Because — after the countless nights I'd crept stealthily through the shadows of dark, constantly in hiding from the daylight, from any possible witnesses — I'd made it to Part One of my destination.

I was in Forks.

My eyes strained to focus on the shadowed objects in front of them as I waited for dawn to break. I could subtly make out the shapes of trees and a highway from where I waited, crouched behind a tree. I knew, by looking at the map, that I was on the major highway, the one that led to everything in this little town: the stores, the houses, the school. If I just followed this road, it would take me to the part of town where myhouse was. _Bella's _house — the small white one with the thousands of shared memories, stolen memories. I couldn't help the feeling of unease that came into my stomach, the sheer stinging of anxiety, terror. I couldn't help the thoughts that trickled into my head, staining my mind with hopelessness, with failure.

What if there was nothing here?

What if I never found the little house of ivory, the one with the light blue baby's room, the room I'd spent so many nights in, held safely in the arms of my stony, pallid angel? What if it didn't exist? What if I went there, searching, and I came up empty, just like I'd feared? And then La Push. What if there was nothing _there_? No Jacob. No Edward. No Bella. Just crazy, insane, mad, Anna. Anna Hensley. Mental Hospital-escapee, pathetic lunatic. I didn't think I could bear the disappointment of finding this all to be just an illusion of my starving mind and heart. I really didn't think I could.

I shook my head, bracing myself on the trunk of the tree as the sun slowly crept up over the horizon. I didn't want to think so negatively. I didn't want to think I wouldn't find anything. I _needed_ to believe that they would be there and that I would be exactly who I thought I was, who I _knew_ I was. My lids pulled down over the mist formulating in my eyes, creating a barrier, restricting the pessimistic thoughts. Desperately, I tried to shield the pain in my chest with the harmful little splutter of hope and excitement I felt. Though these thoughts of happiness and achievement were safer for me to focus on _now, _I knew that they would ultimately hurt much more in the long run if I happened to find out that it was all a dream. But, again, I had to remind myself not to think about that possibility. I had to think that I would find them.

I _would_ find them.

I rolled the book of maps neatly, quickly, and shoved it under my arm, pushing up from the dirt that still marked my legs. I was battered and sullied, a result of tripping around the woods for several nights, sleeping in abandoned shacks and roadsides during the daylight hours. The sight of me was enough to stop traffic, to open the mouths of onlookers into a wide "o" and have their fingers itching for 911 on their cell phones. That was why I needed to hurry now, before the small flow of workers paved the streets with their tire tracks. I needed to get to my house, Bella's house, before anyone was awake enough to realize how much of a wreck I was. My feet hit the concrete quietly; the only noise on the damp road was the shuffling of my clumsy hooves.

It shouldn't take long to reach the place where the house would be. Maybe fifteen minutes, a half hour. And then I'd be there, standing there in the pale morning light in front of one of the few things that could make me feel sane, hopeful, happy. My home. It was so close now. I pushed harder on the blacktop, feeling the strain of my muscles as I tore the bottoms of my feet for the thousandth time. I was drowsy with sleep-deprivation, aching with thirst, and weak with lack of protein. I was so frail, more so than normal, even, and so close to failure. But I wouldn't give up. I couldn't. For the first time, I allowed myself to feel hope, completely, intensely. Every inch of me throbbed with my desperate hope, and a slow, accomplished smile passed over my mouth. Maybe it would all work out in the end. Maybe I could be happy.

My feet continued to push me harder.

--

My heart sped up. I couldn't breathe. I felt nauseous.

The rain slanted down, splashing against my face, combining with the tears that were starting to form. My lips, my hands, my legs…everything trembled. I was numb. I couldn't feel anything. My chest ached, my jaw clenched so tightly I almost was worried that I'd crack my teeth. My eyes were frantic as I glanced back down at the map, making sure that this was the spot I was looking for. It was. This was most definitely where the house should have been. This was the road. This was the exact road.

But it was empty.

There was nothing here. No little white house, no small blue room. No memories, no happiness, no piece fit back into the puzzle, no quantity of sanity given back to me. I stood alone in the empty road, holding myself, trying to keep the broken, crumbling pieces together. I couldn't breathe, but somehow, odd gasps continued to stream from my lips like rivers of agony, like hurricanes of fury, lunacy. My fingers clung to the wet strings of hair lapping at my face with the relentless wind. My legs gave out and I fell to the darkened concrete, fell into the abyss that was my entire life, my entire, hopeless, pathetic, imaginary life. I prayed to God that I drowned here in the empty puddles of this small town. Prayed that someone would end me right here, right now.

There was nothing. Nothing.

Not one thing. Not _one damn thing._

It'd been a dream. All of it, a dream. And I couldn't hold myself together anymore. I was alone. Completely alone. There'd never been a Jacob, never been an Edward. Never had Edward held me in his cold arms. I'd never gotten pregnant. I'd never even _kissed_ a boy. I'd never held their hands, never been loved. I'd never been more than a hopeless dreamer. I was Annabelle Hensley, and that was it. I wasn't Bella Swan. I wasn't the love of anyone's life. I wasn't the one that anyone looked forward to seeing, that anyone wanted to protect. I had no one. Anyone that I _did_ have, I pushed away with my intense, insane, dreams of finding nonexistent things. I was so terribly isolated. Secluded inside of my mind, forever tormented by my own vicious thoughts. I wished that I could lose myself inside of the deep sea of madness, that the little piece of me that was able still to somewhat tell the difference between reality and fantasy would just crumble into the depths of my imagination. It wouldn't matter if they locked me up if that happened. I'd be gone. I'd be completely emerged in my own head, in my dreams. I'd be happy, even if it was only a fake, fabricated happiness. I'd have something at least.

But I couldn't do that. I couldn't hide in my mind. It only let me in so much, only enough to let me taste the sweetness of the untouchable joy it offered, to torture me with it. My mind, my thoughts, my dreams, they teased me, hurt me, killed me.

How would I live like this? How could I do this? Jacob and Edward didn't exist. I was insane. There was no denying it now. I was almost gone, but never gone enough. There was no escape. None. There was nothing.

I was so alone. So alone.

The tears became too much, and I started to choke on the water pooling beneath my face as I fell into the earth. Aqua filled my lungs as I struggled to breathe in the moisture. I didn't want to feel the hurt anymore. I swallowed the rain, the salted tears, until my chest quaked with pressure. My thumb and pointer finger pinched at my nose, preventing air from escaping. I didn't want to breathe, though my lungs pleaded with me, pushing against my chest, squirming for the touch of air that would save me. But I didn't want to be saved. There was nothing here for me.

It was empty. I was empty.

Tears slipped down my cheeks as the morning flew into darkness around me.

And then the pain was gone.


	13. Funerals

**(Disclaimer- i don't own twilight. but i own kyle. and anna. and lana hensley.)**

_This, my friends, is from Annabelle's mother's point of view. yes, it is. and i'd just like to  
say that i spent like three hours searching through all of my story, sunrise, looking for this woman's name!  
I could not remember it for the life of me, and I couldn't figure out which chapter it was in!  
and then i wound up finding it in the chapter that I'd checked before I'd checked any others.  
the FIRST chapter I'd looked for her name in...it was in there. i apparently didn't check well enough  
the first time. darn me. but. anyway. HERE IT IS!  
read. and PLEASE leave reviews!!_

Funerals

I was sitting inside the church pew. My head had fallen into my hands, and the room around me was hushed. Everything here today was black. Clothing, expressions, murmurs. Everything was dismal, but not one single thing was genuine. It slightly irritated me that these people, my friends, could be so falsely upset when I was facing them, but return back to their complacent selves the second I turned my cheek. I understood that they hadn't really known her well, but she'd been my daughter.

And she was dead now.

The last year and a half of her life, she'd been locked up in a mental hospital, been put there by the hands of her own mother, by _me._ It was a selfish thing to not want to have to deal with an insane daughter, to have to hush her every night when she screamed bloody murder for the characters she created in her pitiful little head. But I was a selfish, horrible mother. I realized that now. I didn't see any other option, though. What could I have done? Should I have continued to take her to the doctor, let her see a psychiatrist and pray that maybe if I just took her one more time…that instant would be the one where she miraculously got better? That even after all those years of ineffective psychiatric help, this next time that I took her, she'd become sane, normal? She'd never been normal. Never.

But despite all of the stress she'd caused me, all the pain that her horrified, tortured screams caused me, I loved her, and I wished I could have helped her more than I had. I'd hoped that the hospital would aid her in bettering her mind, so that she could come back to me, to be the daughter I'd always wanted. It sounded horrible in my head now, these thoughts, these wishes for a normal kid. I should have loved her as she was, and I had, but not enough. I should have been there for her. But she wouldn't let me be. All she had wanted was those people…those dreamt people. And it hurt me so much to see her in such a horrible state, missing these imaginary things with such intensity that she nearly ripped the hair from her head in the middle of the night.

What could I have done?

The priest stood before his audience of artificial mourners, cleared his throat. The room fell silent, all eyes on him or the floor. One pair of eyes was set on me, but I ignored them. I didn't want to look at my husband right now. I was so lost in self-loathing I could hardly think straight. The little part of me that hated what I'd done was made much more forceful by the other half of my conscience that denied my wrongs. That other, horrible half, told me that what I'd done was right, that she'd been crazy and she'd belonged where I'd put her. She'd belonged where she was now, in that coffin in the front of the room. She'd made the mistake of running away. She'd made the mistake of standing up to the police officer. If she'd have only listened to him, to that man with the gun, she'd never have been shot. He'd never have shot her.

She wouldn't be dead.

I'd imagined the scenario several times in my head. I'd seen her wild eyes as she stood in the middle of the street, a knife clutched tightly in her right hand. Her hair was slick with rain and gnarled around her scalp, her white hospital clothes torn and dirtied. The police officer stood, flanked on either side by his two trusty sidekicks, each with a gun aimed at her face. In my head, I pictured her to laugh a sinister, mad guffaw. The officers flinched, tightening their fingers on the triggers. I could feel mine tighten now against the side of the church pew, running through the images in my head as though I'd been there myself. My eyes flooded still with the image of her shaking her head as they repeated their instructions for her to drop the weapon. Then she lunged forward, knife held out in front of her, prepared to slice through the officer's chest.

The loud snapping sound of a handgun reverberated in my head. Tears fell down my cheeks as I was shaken back into the present by my husband's hands. I looked to him, seeking comfort in his grip, but found his eyes to be filled with fury. He shook me hard by the shoulders, glaring madly. His lips curled into a snarl as I slowly watched each of my friends and family circle around me, their faces matching, each and every one masked in anger. I gasped, feeling the painful grasp on my shoulders tighten.

"This is _your _fault_, _Lana! It's your fault that our daughter is dead!" He shouted at me, his eyes burning with the intensity of his words. I felt a sob building in my throat. He blamed me. Of course he did. Tears rolled down my cheeks and he gritted his teeth at the sight of them, looking disgusted. His hands pushed me away from him, my body crashing back against the pew, a gasp forming on my lips. I stared at him with large, desperate eyes, begging for forgiveness. He didn't seem to want to grant me that anytime soon. I sniffed.

"_You _should be the one in that coffin, Lana!" He barked at me. "_You_ should be dead!" I balked at his words, the words that shot out and sliced me like the sharp blade of a knife. He hated me, and he was right. It was all my fault. All my fault.

"Lana!" I heard him say again, but his lips did not seem to move, his voice sounded distant. My eyebrows furrowed, trying to understand. My hands were shaking, the pew and floor beneath me beginning to melt like butter in a frying pan. My face felt red-hot. I couldn't breathe. I reached for him, and I felt his hands on mine, but in front of my eyes, I saw him with his hands in his pockets. I shook my head, feeling crazy. Feeling like Anna.

"Please…" I whimpered, wishing that I could understand. The room around me spun, the black-clothed bodies swaying with demented laughter. I felt someone grab my wrists as I clawed my fingers into the air before me, but I could see no hands here. I thrashed against the wooden bench.

"Lana!" He shouted once more. My eyes shot open, a wild scream filling the air around me, my mind intuitively realizing that it was my own. I saw my hands scratching at the white of his nightshirt, and I curled them into fists, shoving them behind his back as he threw me into a hug. The room was dark around us, the church gone.

It'd all been a nightmare. A dream brought on by the guilt that I tried not to feel. I suddenly understood the lunatic reactions Anna had to her dreams, comprehended the intensity of the emotions they stirred in her. I'd stuffed her in a little white cell because of those dreams, because they'd caused her mind to shut down, to stop functioning properly. I'd never understood her then, never really tried to. And now that I was able to, she was no where to be found. Because I'd made her miserable, so miserable that she'd escaped from the hospital, that she'd run away. She _could_ die, out there alone like she was. She could be dead right now for all that I knew. She could be shot by one of the many policemen that were out there searching for her, even at this very moment. And it would be all my fault. I'd have killed her.

What had I done to my daughter?


	14. Reunion

**(Disclaimer- no ownageeee.)**

_Okay. I have to apologize to my friend, Megan, before she rips my throat out.  
I had to lie to her about what happened in the last chapter, after i read most of it over the phone.  
I didn't want her to know it was just a dream Lana Hensley was having.. because I didn't want to  
give it away yet. so i had to lie. because megan kept guessing!  
i was surprised she didn't guess I was lying to her, though. i was giggling the whole time. ahah.  
but yeah. so megan, I'm sorry. :D  
now here is chapter 14! WOOOO! please leave reviews.  
i don't think i have all that many readers for this story. i only ever get like.. two reviews  
per chapter. it kind of stinks. but oh well. at least someone's reading it..  
thanks to those who are leaving reviews. i really, truly appreciate it.  
oh, and uh, we're back to anna's pov.  
also, this is probably the shortest chapter I've ever written, and I'm sorry  
about that, but it needed to end there. so. yeah. ahah. okay bye._

Reunion

A low, muddled echo filled my ears. The deep cadence of the far away chant hurt my head, made me flinch. I could feel the furrowing of my eyebrows, the frown of my mouth. Felt the weak bones of my arms wrap slowly around my torso, covered by a thin sheet of cold skin. Though I felt all of these things, knew it was me who was moving them, they felt like they were someone else's, like I was watching from the inner corner of another person's body, sitting there, only a small fraction of the brain. I felt disconnected from myself, from the world. Every slowed thought in my mind trickled hesitantly under the thick haze. I felt like I was floating, swaying back and forth in the cold, wet breeze, and there was a strange pressure building in my throat and chest.

I wasn't breathing.

More, different pressure tainted my wrists, my neck. I wanted to move, to wiggle away from the unusual touch of weight, but I couldn't seem to command my body to move itself. It moved only on its own. It didn't do what I wanted. My fingers tightened against the side of my ribs, and my eyelids fluttered lazily. I was still floating. Far away. I would have groaned if I could have found my lungs. But they weren't there.

And then I remembered.

I was alone. Nothing existed. I didn't want to exist.

Where was I now? Was I still on the side of the road, lying on the ground, my lungs filled with rain? Was only my body to be found there on the wet concrete, my soul somewhere else, floating into death? Was I dead? I wanted to be. But I couldn't be. Could I? I was still able to remember, to feel pain, to feel grief for my lost, non-existent life. I'd always hoped that death would bring with it numbness, a lack of feeling. That I would simply not exist anymore. But I was still thinking. I was still somewhat here. And I didn't want to be.

"No." The low echo flew back into my head, still so far away from me. It sounded like it was coming through a long tunnel, reaching me at the very end. Everything was black; I couldn't locate the cause of the sound. I recognized the word, but I didn't understand its meaning. My eyebrows furrowed deeper, acting on their own. Breath still evaded me. My head spun. "No! Wake up!"

A hard, sharp pain whipped across my back. It stung. Breath whooshed out of my mouth, along with it, a flow of salted water. Flames escalated in my throat. A horrible barking cough filled my hollowed ears and swung in my head, ricocheting inside of my skull. My eyelids tore open, pushed upward with the strange weight that'd once been placed on my wrists. _Fingers_, my brain whispered to me. _Someone's fingers._

"Look at me!" The voice commanded. I tried to do as he said, but I still couldn't control myself. There was an immovable blanket of fog covering my vision. A slow whimper fell from my chest, molten lava flowing inside of me. It felt almost like the time James had bitten me. That impossible dream conjured up by my lunacy. My head rolled back on the concrete. Someone was gently tapping my cheek. "Wake up! _Please_, wake up." He begged.

My eyes decided to work then. Cool fingertips pushed back the moisture in them, letting me see. I focused on the face in front of me. My mouth fell open, more water escaping my lips like liquid fire. My insides were alight with the blaze. He smiled a tortured, relieved smile, ducking his head against my shoulder and letting out a defeated, reassured chuckle.

"Finally." He whispered against the skin of my cheek. "You came back to me."


	15. Mistaken

**(Disclaimer- me no own.)**

_woot. so i'm writing chapters a lot faster than im posting them. i currently have 21 chapters  
finished on my computer. :D yes i doooo! but i'm still updating a little slow. but not TOO slow, i think.  
i've been trying to update every day, which is kind of fast, I think. but anyway. here we go: chapter fifteen. _

Mistaken

"Talk to me. Please?" He begged me, tapping my back lightly with his cool hand. Water spilled endlessly from my mouth. He wiped it with his gentle fingers as he held me in a sitting position with the other hand. "What happened to you? I knew I'd find you out here somewhere. How did this happen?"

I tried to breathe through all of the fire, tried to answer Kyle. I managed only to grunt out a strangled sound of pain. His face scrunched in sympathy again, as it had that very first time I'd spoken with him. I wondered what he was doing here in Forks. Had he come looking for me? I still felt odd, disconnected, flat. I felt like a slit of paper shoved in the back of someone's pocket. I was there, but I wasn't alive. Just a little piece. My head lolled in his palm. His thumb massaged a small circle into my hair as he sighed.

"Let's get you to a hospital, shall we?" He suggested. My voice came back quickly, painfully.

"No!" I rasped. My fingers flew to my throat, squeezing it, trying to stop the sharp sting from slithering there. It didn't work. He placed me down on the passenger seat of his car and ran around to the driver's side, snatching the map I'd dropped. He got in quickly and threw the map to the floor by my feet, gunning the engine while I tried to swallow back the fiery pit in my throat. I needed to keep him from taking me there. To the hospital. Someone would find me. And I didn't want to be found, to be put back in that place. There was nothing left for me. I wanted it to end, but not in that way. That would just prolong the ache in my heart. I needed to be gone for good, submerged in darkness, in death. Not in a small white room. Never that.

"No." I said again, working hard to speak. "Please. Don't take me there."

"You've nearly drowned to death. In a _puddle._ How does that happen, Riley? Either you fell really hard and went unconscious, which there are no scars to prove happened, or you were _trying_ to drown. What is it, Riley? You _want _to die? Tell me." He sounded so angry, so disgusted with me. I was angry and disgusted, too, but not for trying to die. Only for trying to believe. For letting myself think that I could be happy. I didn't deserve such happiness. I was a lunatic. I gritted my teeth.

"So what if I did want to die?" I hissed, sounding like a chain-smoker. "What do _you_ care?" I crossed my arms over my chest, leaning into the door. I wanted to get away from him, to run away and repeat my horrible act of suicide. But it hadn't worked that time, and I couldn't count on it to work if I tried again. I'd have to find another route out of here. Maybe I could find a gun. Maybe he'd have one in here somewhere. His glove compartment? My finger touched the button on the little box and I watched the compartment fall open. It was empty except for a small book. My face molded into an angry scowl as he watched me cautiously.

"I don't have any guns or knives, sorry." He spit sarcastically, completely revolted by me, knowing exactly what it was I had been looking for. This only made me angrier, this stranger, this man. Why was he able to know me so well, when I didn't even know myself? I hated him. I hated him so much. "I spent every day and night out here on these roads looking for you. Did you know that? I didn't want to find you dead. I'm lucky I found you only _half_ dead. I knew you'd do something like this. But _why?_ What could be so bad?"

"What could be so _bad?!"_ I screamed at him, loosing control of myself. Every ounce of anger and pain that I'd held inside of my tortured chest escaped me now, like someone had opened the door to my own inner hell. I didn't care who found me anymore. I didn't want to hold in my misery anymore. I was done for. I'd find a way to end myself later. I didn't care if he knew my secrets. Nothing was real. None of it. I was alone. So alone. I wished I was dead. I started to cry.

"They're not here." I bawled. Tears spilled suddenly, sobs quaking abruptly in my chest, drowning me in agony and pain. I gasped at the flow of emotion leaving my eyes, and so did he. His arms were around me within seconds, rocking me, the car swiftly in park. "No one's here. I'm alone. I'm _alone!_ I came here to find them, and they don't _exist!_ They're not here! I can't find them. I should have never come here. I should never have come to Forks!" I turned my face into his chest then, overcome with my wild screaming. The fire in my chest was licking slowly into my throat, acidic and horrible. "Please…" I sobbed quietly, not really knowing what I was begging for. Death, maybe. He hushed me, his fingers looping around my hair again and again.

"Riley, what do you mean, you should never have come to Forks?" He whispered into my ear, his breath warm. I shook against him, crying uncontrollably still. I felt stupid for opening up to this unusual stranger, but I had no one else. I was secluded. Alone. I shook my head into his shirt, staining it with tears.

"I should have known nothing would be here."

"Here?" Confusion marked his voice and I looked up at him, my eyes watery and hard to see through, trying to see if I'd detected the correct emotion in his tone. As I stared, my face just inches from his, his features changed from confusion to longing, troubled to warm. My eyes widened and my sobs stuck in my chest, my heart pumping. I felt so delirious, so insane. I wanted to feel normal. Just once.

His lukewarm lips met mine slowly, and I sighed dejectedly against them. These were the only lips mine had ever met. The only lips they'd ever feel. I wanted to feel them. I wanted to feel something. I wanted so much just to be happy. His mouth moved softly, tenderly, on mine, as his fingers pulled me closer. I curled in around him, around the stranger. Kyle, a human. He existed. He was here for me.

Could I be happy without my imaginary friends?

Could I be happy…with Kyle?

My lips pushed his harder, trying to reach for the feeling I'd always felt in my dreams. Love. Where was it now? I could feel a touch of warmth spreading throughout me, almost there. I was almost happy…but I was no where near it. I wanted Jacob. Edward. Someone, but not Kyle. But Kyle was all that I had. Everything. He was the only one that wanted me, the only one that cared, that existed. He was here, right here. And this wasn't a dream. This wasn't a dream.

My fingers entwined with his as I pushed up from my seat, crossing over the console to where he sat. Wetness rolled down my face, touching his, a fierce hatred filling my core. I hated myself for kissing him, for touching him. I hated it. I wanted Jacob, not Kyle. It was wrong of me to do this to him, to me. I was horrible, but I couldn't stop. I'd missed this rare feeling of happiness, even if it was merely a shadow of what I'd felt in my sleep. He pushed gently at my shoulders anyway, holding me back, before I could seat myself on his lap. I could feel my face crumbling with misery as he watched me, the tears coming stronger once again. I looked down at the seat, holding tight to his hand. I was betraying myself.

"What are you looking for?" He whispered against my hair. I shook my head, refusing to answer. I couldn't talk about them anymore, about Jacob and Edward. My heart was in shreds. I needed to be patched together. This would only rip me apart. I sniffled. "Please?" He tried, noticing my resistance. Again, I let my face drag against his shoulder, denying him an answer. He sighed.

"Riley, I think you read your map wrong." He said finally. My eyebrows met in the center of my forehead and I looked back at him, seeing the map in his hand, his eyes inspecting it unhappily. A strange, halfhearted longing ripped through me at his words, but I didn't understand. His fingertip stroked my cheek. I melted at the touch, nuzzling my face into it. I missed the touch of loving hands. My heartbeat threatened me, my thoughts trickling into a matching rhythm. _Jacob, Jacob. _I gulped.

"What do you mean?" I croaked quietly.

"This isn't Forks. You're no where near Forks, actually. You're only in Mason." He sighed again, shaking his head. He pushed me softly back into my seat and reached around me for the seatbelt. "Put this on, please." He ordered politely as I stared at him in bewilderment. My breath was too quick, hyperventilating.

"I…read…the map…wrong?" I muttered slowly, confusedly. It wasn't making sense. What did this mean if I wasn't in Forks? A warm flush of red covered my cheeks as I realized my own stupidity. My heart was broken and dismantled for nothing. Here I'd been trying to kill myself when I hadn't even reached my destination yet! I'd almost wasted my chance of finding Jacob because of my inability to read a road-map. I was so dumb.

My eyes widened as I grasped what that meant.

Just a moment ago, my future, my life, had been proven not to exist. But suddenly, so suddenly that I was left sitting on the leather seat with my mouth hanging open and my eyes spread wide, it was again possible. Happiness. It could exist. They could exist. Jacob could be real. It might not have been just a dream.

But I couldn't let myself get my hopes up. Not yet.

I stifled a relieved sob, leaning into his chest for a quick hug. He'd told me exactly the right thing. Everything I needed to hear to stay alive at this moment…he'd expressed in three simple words: _This isn't Forks. _I swallowed hard against the destructive sense of joy, shaking.

"Take me, please?" I whispered. He smiled at me warmly as his foot hit the accelerator.

"Of course."

(_**author's note: **don't hate anna because she kissed him. you have to realize that she is truly going crazy... she's  
desperately depressed... and she kinda needs all the positive emotion she can get. and kyle is there for her, hes  
helping her. but that doesn't mean she doesn't love jake. she obviously does. haha. so. just keep reading! next  
chapter is up already!)_


	16. Departure

**(Disclaimer- im really getting sick of these things.)**

_chapter sixteen! yay! read it!  
thank you all for the reviews! i love you guys!  
_

Departure

"Here we are." Kyle said hesitantly, his eyes tracing over the street, watching the two people crossing with suspicion. His hand automatically tightened around mine, and my heart mimicked the sensation. I realized that I was shaking, but I didn't seem to be able to stop myself. Watching him intently, I wondered if he'd insist again on joining me in my impossible search. I didn't doubt that he would.

"Thanks." I said, trying to snag my palm back, my other on the door. I raised an eyebrow at him as he met my gaze, my lips pursed. "You need to let go." I insisted, still attempting to tug away from him. He let my skin slide from his reluctantly, his jaw muscles flexing as he clenched his jaw. A strand of brown hair swished into his face with the moist breeze blowing through the window. He didn't seem to want to let me leave.

I turned my torso away from him, my fingers pulling at the handle of my exit. I jumped quickly from the car, feeling a little unwilling myself, but needing to get this over with. We were in Forks now, and it was almost time to prove either my sanity, or my lunacy — for real this time. I didn't know which was legit, the sanity or lunacy, but I hoped it wasn't the latter.

A hand found my wrist then and held me in place. I sighed, turning to face him. His features were marked with uncertainty and distrust, his blue eyes considerably looking me over for the fortieth time. He seemed to like what he saw there, now that I was cleaned and prettied. He'd taken me to his house on the way, let me wash off. He'd even gone as far as buying me some jeans and a t-shirt, apologizing later on his lack of fashion-smarts. Little did he know I had none of my own, either. I was surprised he'd gotten the sizes right. But almost everything Kyle did surprised me, anyway.

"Riley…" He started, voice indecisive, persuasive. I rolled my eyes at him, shaking my head before he could even make his request. We'd discussed it the whole way here, his coming along with me on my quest. I'd told him no several times already, but he didn't seem to be willing to go along with it. I groaned as I threw my hand up to my forehead, pacing away from him. He followed sadly, taking my hand back in his. I frowned.

"This is something I have to do alone, Kyle." I said, trying to sound stern. The miserable tone I'd tried to hide crept into the words anyway, though. His jaw tightened, but he didn't respond. He still had no idea what it was I was looking for, only that it was very important to me. His hand left mine and slowly glazed over the side of my head, brushing the hair back. It felt nice, in a way, but I tried not to concentrate on the small smile it brought to my lips. I pulled away from him and began walking in the other direction.

"You know what? _Fine."_ He shouted at my back. I cringed at the reproachful tone of his voice, but continued striding forward. "Leave. What do I care? I've only helped you get this far without even the reward of knowing your _real name._ But that's fine with me. Hell, I always let messed up chicks hop into my car, search for them for who knows how many nights, bring them back to my _house_ so they can put on the clothes that I _bought_ them…just so they can leave me without even so much as a number I can call to see if they've survived. That's great, _Riley, _or whatever the hell your name is."

I froze in the middle of the road.

How did he know I was lying about my name? I bit my lip. "What do you mean? My name _is—"_

"Oh come on. Give me a _little_ credit, at least. I'm not that stupid. You're a terrible liar. Really. It's pathetic." He smirked condescendingly at me as I slowly slid back to face him. I pursed my lips, feeling a horrible pit of guilt sprouting in my stomach. Behind all the anger, I knew he was hurting, and that I was hurting him. My eyes flipped to the ground, no longer able to look at his face.

"Bella." I murmured, tracing the shape of a leaf with my eyes. I still couldn't look at him. My face was hot. I had no idea what I was getting myself into.

"What?" Though the anger was still detectable in his voice, it was made less of by the confusion that suddenly overpowered it. I glanced up at him to see his dark eyebrows joined above his simmering eyes, and I knew that he was too lost in his enraged thoughts to have understood the bit of information I was feeding him. I sighed, ignoring the chance of taking back the name I'd given him. He didn't understand that I was telling him who I really was. I could have not repeated it. I could have decided to keep my identity a secret still. But I didn't.

"My name is Bella." I told him again. His eyes widened, one eyebrow popping up, obviously considering the truth of what I'd just told him. I realized that I didn't really know the truth of the name, either, and before I knew it, I was telling him more…more than I'd wanted to. "Or Anna." I continued, contemplation clear in my voice. "I don't really know which one yet."

"How can you not know—"

"Don't ask." I cut him off, shaking my head. His mouth closed, and he did as I'd said, probably finding it not too important at the moment. He didn't want to upset me more. He sauntered over to where I stood, his eyes saddening. His hand stretched into his pocket, and with it, out came something small and black. My eyebrows met in mystification as I watched him lift my hand with his, palm up, and place the object there. It was a cell phone.

"When you get where you're going, and you find what you're looking for, call the 'home' contact. I want to know that you're safe. Or you can call if anything goes wrong, and I can come pick you up." He looked at the ground then, embarrassed by the astonished expression on my face. I bit my lip, looking away, too. "I'll probably call every now and then." He admitted.

I chuckled lightly, putting my arms around his waist. "Thanks." I whispered to him, shoving the phone into the front pocket of my new jeans. He shrugged before hugging me closer, not willing to respond with words. I knew I needed to get out of here, away from him, before I started crying. I didn't want to lose my only friend, and I didn't think that, now, with the cell phone he'd placed in my hand, that I'd have to, but saying goodbye was still bad enough.

I pushed away from him then, ready to leave. He was staring at my mouth when I looked at him. I realized, too slowly, what he was going to do, and knew that it wouldn't make it any easier to leave him here. But I couldn't stop him. I was too slow, and maybe I didn't want to stop him, anyway. I didn't know what I wanted anymore. All I could think of was finding Jacob and Edward. Though it'd be nice to have Kyle there by my side for support. But it was impossible.

His lips pressed onto mine again, for the last time, and they were warm, pleasant-feeling. I sighed as his mouth released mine, not quite understanding the odd mix of emotions I felt. I didn't have time to focus on them, though. I turned in his arms, preparing to launch myself into a sprint the second he loosened his grip.

"Goodbye, Bella…Anna…whoever you are." He said sadly, throwing in an attempted laugh at the end to relieve the tension. I laughed too, before I stole away from him and dashed into the street. I stopped there in the middle, turning to watch him walk to his car, making sure that he wouldn't follow. His chest rose, then fell again, seeming to sigh. Then he spun around and walked over to his car.

He only made it halfway before he tripped over a rock.

He pushed up from the ground quickly, a thick blush concealing his face, embarrassed. He looked back to me then quickly, probably hoping that I hadn't seen it. I could feel the shock expressed on my face, but I couldn't seem to close my mouth or stop the surprised, single chuckle to slip past my lips. His mouth twitched as he tried to hide his own smile.

"Pretend you didn't see that." He said, smiling a little bit with each word. Then he turned and climbed into the car. I turned back in the other direction, no longer amused, reluctant to watch him leave…or to let him leave. The last sound I heard was the growl of his engine as he gunned it and pulled a u-turn, driving away.

I didn't turn to see him go.


	17. Sanity

**(Disclaimer- i own nothing.)**

_dhfjdgj! i am so excited with this story. i can't seem to stop writing.  
but anyway, here is chapter seventeen! I REALLY hope you like it!  
leave me some good reviews, people! _

Sanity

I'd managed to find the street where the house should have been. I hoped that I wouldn't have to search the entire road from top to bottom looking for the house, like I had with the other street…the wrong street…the one in Mason. It'd been an hour since Kyle had dropped me off on the main highway, and it felt like it'd been longer. Stupidly, perhaps, I'd taken my time coming here, reveling in the fact that I'd been able to find the Newton's store first. I'd circled it twice, making sure that no one was watching me, trailing my fingers along the walls of the outside. The name wasn't the same, so I wasn't sure that it'd even been the right store, really, but it seemed so familiar to me. I'd made the mistake of letting myself believe again. The hope was back in tact, taking over me.

I hoped it didn't destroy me in the end.

I knew my course well. I'd gone over it in my mind again and again, right from day one, from the day I'd broken free of the hospital. I would go to my home first, then Edward's street. I wouldn't get farther than the beginning of his road, if it existed, so that there wouldn't be any chance of him seeing me. I knew that this was my last chance not to hurt him, and I couldn't let him find me this time. I couldn't let any of them — the Cullens — know of my existence. Only Jacob. I would be here only for Jacob.

Then, of course, _his_ house. I would go to Jacob's house.

I saved his place for last only because it was safer if I did it that way. If I went to the other places first — the less important places like my home or Edward's street — yes, it would be horrible to find nothing there. But finding those things not to exist…it wouldn't be even _half _as bad as finding nothing where Jacob should have been. If I found out first that he didn't exist, nothing else would matter to me. I'd be broken, crazy. There'd be no hope left. It'd be like every little breath that I'd taken in my entire life had been for nothing other than the inevitable breaking of my heart. But if I was to find, first, instead, that my home and Edward's road didn't exist, at least then I could pretend that _only _those two things didn't exist, and that Jacob still did. Even if I knew that he didn't, I could pretend. But I wouldn't look for him. I wouldn't do that to myself. I'd just stay locked up in that hell hole of a hospital room, forever in denial of the fact that he didn't exist. Because life was not worth living if Jacob was not alive and breathing. It just wasn't. That was why I couldn't go there first.

I edged toward the slight curve of the road, my heart rocketing quicker and quicker, my breath sputtering out jaggedly at the thought of never finding them. Crossing my fingers, I tried to think positively. I had to focus on the good signs — all of the incredibly coincidental and perhaps partially fabricated signs — that I'd come across. My hope had been fueled just recently by one of those signs of possible sanity. I'd passed a house not so long ago that I recognized. It was a tan house, not too big, not too small, but larger than mine. The grass was green and dotted with flowers around the edges of the walk. The door was a pretty burgundy, the handle shiny gold. It was a pretty home.

It was the home of my old neighbor. It hadn't changed a bit.

My heart pounded in my chest, anticipation clutching me like the hands of a determined attacker. I felt a tingling chill skidding over my skin as the color leaked from it, leaving me bone-white. I could barely control my impatience as I charged onward, tripping slightly as I rounded the curve. I flew down the street, sucking in a deep breath, preparing myself for whatever may come. Then I froze.

There it was.

I couldn't believe it. I couldn't control my breathing. The image in front of my eyes was too wondrous, too rewarding. My core swelled with such a fierce, powerful wave of happiness, of relief, that I nearly fell to my knees in the middle of the street again. Sweet tears rolled down my face, tasting of victory, of near completion. I'd found it. My home. Bella's home. It was here.

I took off in a sprint, aiming for the front door. I could hardly see where I was going beneath all of the water blanketing my eyes, but I somehow managed not to trip. I didn't know if I owned the house or if someone _else_ owned the house, but this was it. This was the house. And I didn't care if I was trespassing. It was mine either way.

I flung myself at the door, my fingers turning the knob a little too aggressively in enthusiasm. The handle spun easily beneath my touch, surprising me by being unlocked, and the door swung open. There was the hallway. Exactly the same as it had been in my dreams, only it wasn't filled with my old photographs. The walls were blank, white, beautiful. I slid my fingertips along the ivory, a small smile on my mouth as I continued into the living room. This room, too, was empty. The brown rug had a red stain, one that I remembered. It'd occurred the day I'd tripped over the rug and thrown my fruit punch all over the floor. So that was it. I wasn't crazy. I was completely, utterly sane.

I was Bella.

My smile widened and I dashed into the kitchen, feeling like I could break down and cry hysterically at any moment for all of the joy that I felt. All I cared to see now was my room, the deal breaker. One look at that room and I'd be out of here. I didn't even care to see if the road the Cullens lived on existed or not. I just wanted to get to Jacob now. I needed to see him, to touch him, kiss him. I needed to see if he knew me, if he loved me. Would he imprint on me this time? Would he tell me that my dream had in fact been real? Would he know who I was? I had no answers to these questions yet. And I couldn't wait long to get them. I couldn't wait to get to Jake.

As I looked toward the stairs, heading for my blue room, I stopped dead in my tracks, my eyes bugging out of my head. I couldn't believe the image invading my vision. The man was standing before me, his foot paused mid-air, frozen there on the last step. His eyes were large as he took in the sight of me, his mouth slightly ajar. His white skin glistened slightly in the rare sunlight spilling through the window beside me, his eyes shimmering gold.

My heart was not beating.

Neither was his.

"Oh my God." I whispered.

_(**author's note:** can somebody say VAMPIRE?!)_


	18. Lions, Tigers, and Bears

**(Disclaimer- no ownageee.)**

_wooooo! its happening, its happening! the event you've all been waiting for!  
lions, tigers, and bears, OH MY! :D this is sort of exciting for me, seeing as i've  
had this done for like EVER and you're all finally just getting to see it. wooo.  
okay. go read! and leave reviews please! i love everyone that leaves me reviews.  
and i must say that i especially like the reviews i've been getting from paleviolet and  
watermelonflavored! you guys seriously ROCK with your reviews. haha. :)  
figured i'd mention how much i appreciate it in here. thanks to everyone else, too.  
i'm not forgetting about you guys. i appreciate ALL of the reviews i get. keep them coming!!  
thanks. now read!  
_

Lions, Tigers, and Bears

"Emmett!?" I shrieked, forgetting completely my need to stay hidden from him, from all of the Cullens. The second the gasped word left my mouth, I regretted it, wishing I could take it back and melt into the corner where he couldn't see me. Maybe if I hadn't spoken his name, he wouldn't have recognized me, though I doubted that. But there was no escaping it now. There was no escaping Edward. He would know. Emmett would have to tell him. I would have to hurt him.

Or I'd just have to stay away from Jacob.

Could I do that to myself? I didn't know. I'd gotten so used to thinking only of being with Jake that it was hard to picture life without him — especially now that I was almost positive he existed. I bit my lip, trying to conjure up some plan to make everyone happy, but I couldn't think of one single thing to do. Deny everything, maybe. Though these people that I so vainly hoped I could lie to were much smarter than I was, and there was no doubt in my mind that not a single one of them would ever believe me.

There was nothing I could do.

"What are you doing in here? And how do you know my name?" He asked, his eyebrows furrowing over his perplexed, golden eyes. He looked suspicious as he watched me. Cautious, like he expected me to try to rob him — just like the cashier had that time I'd bought the Poptart, along with every other time I'd gone food shopping since I'd fled Texas. Having those strangers look at me in such a way was understandable. I'd been a total mess, not to mention the look on my face probably was one of desperation, madness, impatience. But I was clean now, normal-looking — sort of. Why was he asking me these questions, looking at me like a trespasser?

My mouth fell open and my blood ran cold, bewilderment taking place on my face. I'd _hoped_ before that he would somehow not recognize me, but I'd never imagined that he really _wouldn't_. I just didn't want to have to hurt anyone. I'd never thought for even one second that I'd have that option after seeing him, though. But I did, because he had no idea who I was.

_How could he not know me?_

His words were painful, a kick to the stomach, but I tried hard to conceal the misery that his lack of remembrance stirred in me. I didn't want him to see that he'd insulted me. I needed to work this to my advantage, to play it casual. I had to think of some way I'd have known his name without giving away my true identity. If he didn't recognize me, then maybe he wouldn't tell Edward, and Edward wouldn't have to be hurt by my decision. Unless of course he saw me in Emmett's mind…

Dang it.

"You're one of the Cullens, right?" I asked, trying to cover up my mistake anyway. The entire vampire family was noticeable; there was no way that the people in this town didn't know their name. I hadn't thought it would seem odd that I'd know about his family. I really hadn't. They were a pretty conspicuous bunch, what with their good looks and all, and I didn't think that anyone who saw them wouldn't recognize them or go out of their way to know about them. I'd thought it would seem like an innocent response, not at all suspicious.

But I was wrong, and I was stupid, too.

His face flashed first with surprise, then with suspicion, mistrust, and I realized my mistake. I should have known better than to say that. If my dream was correct, they were living in Denali, not Forks. They were keeping their existence a secret from this town so that no one would have the chance to recognize them, remember them. No one would know them here.

I was stupid. A fool.

My friendly expression faltered as I gazed at his face, a small grimace falling over my mouth. I disengaged from the staring contest we were sharing, not comfortable with the hostile response my appearance was rousing in the big man before me.

"Who are you." He said it like a statement, not a question. I refused to look at him, and he descended the last stair, stepping quickly to stand in front of me. Quickly for a human, but slow for him. He was pretending still. He wasn't sure if I knew what he was yet, but he was watchful, careful. I didn't know whether it was good or bad that he was unsure of how much I knew about him. I supposed it was a good thing, because that meant he still hadn't figured out I was Bella, but a part of me ached for him to remember me still.

I stared at the floor as the game of tug-a-war continued in my stomach. He repeated his question, more forcefully this time, almost a growl, and his cold hand clamped down on my shoulder. He was protecting his family, making sure that I wasn't a threat, that I wouldn't get away from him. I figured this would be the only time he'd be serious, when defending them. I'd never experienced another moment in which he'd not been a smiling, antagonizing bear of a man. Not until today.

I swallowed hard, glancing up at his hard expression. I knew that Emmett would snatch me up and take me to their home, wherever it may be, for further interrogation. It didn't matter whether I answered him or not. It'd be quite a risk for him, though, seeing as there was no car outside the house. I assumed that he must have come here on foot, and not like I'd done in order to get to this place. He'd been running.

Would he really run with me, whether it was to his car, stashed somewhere in hiding, or his house? He wouldn't risk letting me in on his family's secret, would he? Not if he thought that I was a stranger. Right? I had no idea. But one thing I did know was that I didn't have a choice anymore. I had only one option: I had to tell him who I was now. It would hurt me. It would be the end of whatever life I may have had with Jacob. I wouldn't be able to see him ever again — at least not in reality, in consciousness.

Tears rolled silently from my eyes, misery arching my brows.

"Bella Swan." I whispered.

His hand fell from my shoulder immediately and he stepped back, his eyes widening in astonishment. His mouth opened, his topaz irises fixated only on my face as he stood frozen before me. I felt a warm blush spread over the plains of my cheeks, uncomfortable, and I backed into the wall, presenting a teensy, self-conscious smile. For several minutes, he stared at me, his features, as well as his body, completely motionless. I counted nine minutes in my head before his hand finally shot into his pocket.

He moved as though someone had switched a DVD off of pause and into fast-motion. I watched remorsefully as he stuck the phone to his ear, his lips moving rapidly, soundlessly. The conversation didn't last long — maybe half of a second. Then suddenly he was grabbing my hand and pulling me into his chest. My jaw clenched, humiliated by the fact that he probably heard my heart accelerating, angry that I couldn't slow it down.

Despite the nauseous feeling in my stomach, I was kind of happy. Relieved, in a way, that I'd gotten a response from him. The moment I'd said the name, he'd reacted. That meant that he knew who Bella was, at least.

But wait.

What did that mean, if he recognized the _name_ Bella, but not _me?_ What if…was it possible that I _wasn't_ Bella? What if Bella had never died, and was never reincarnated? What if she was happily married to Edward, living somewhere in Antarctica, feeding off of penguins? What if I went there, thinking I was Bella, only to be laughed at _by _Bella? What would they think? What would they do with me? Would they have to get rid of me, because of the rules of the Volturi? Would they make me one of them, look past my insanity?

What would _I _do if I found out that, yes, the life that I so longed for did exist…but just that _I _wasn't a part of it…and never would be?

No. _No_. I couldn't believe that. I wouldn't. I refused to. It couldn't be possible. How could my dreams, my knowledge of vampires and werewolves, of the Cullens and of Jacob, be explained, then? I couldn't just randomly know these things, could I?

I _was_ Bella, wasn't I?

Emmett's tugging arms pulled me straight out of my unnerving thoughts, dragging me back into the present situation, as well as to the back door, before scooping me up like a rag doll. He didn't speak; he only looked at me, concentrating on his own thoughts, seeming to be contemplating something. Before I could open my mouth to protest, he was running through the woods. The green of the world around me flashed by, a dizzying blur to my tired eyes. I felt lightheaded, sick, as I had the very first time I'd gone running with Edward in the meadow however many years ago. If I'd ever been in the meadow with him at all, that is. If I was even Bella.

I wrapped my arms tightly around Emmett's thick neck, hugging fiercely, not only so that I wouldn't fall, but also as a sort of underhanded reunion. I'd missed my burly big brother. I hoped, as the wind shot through my hair like I'd stuck my head out the window of an airplane, that he considered my death grip to be due only to fear, and not to the fact that I missed him the way that I did. He didn't seem to notice either way, though, and I decided not to think about why that made me so sad.

I sighed as we continued further, realizing what had to happen next. Whether I was prepared for it or not, I was going to have to face Edward. And despite the pain it caused me, knowing that I would have to hurt him to be with Jacob, or hide away from Jacob to be with Edward, instead, I was silently thrilled. I knew that it was wrong, that I shouldn't have been as excited as I secretly was, but I couldn't help myself. After all, I did love him. That had never changed. Not for one moment.

Butterflies flew up from my stomach, tapping along the inner flesh of my lips. I took a deep breath, trying to calm myself. In just a short matter of time, carried in by the arms of my strong once-brother — maybe — Emmett, I would be with the man I'd almost married, the man I'd begged to change me into a mythical creature, a vampire. In just a little while, I'd be with the man that I'd loved so desperately I was willing to trade my life, my soul (or so he thought) just to spend an eternity with.

Soon, I would be with Edward.


	19. Beauty

**(disclaimer- i am not stephenie meyer. i'd never be so lucky.)**

_BREAKING DAWN IS HERE!  
i bet that most of you went to borders at midnight, am i right?!  
i wish i could have gone, but unfortunately i couldn't get a ride.  
so im stuck here waiting for my copy to be sent through the mail.  
and i'll have to wait for about a week. its killing me. seriously.  
i know that most of you aren't going to be reading this because  
you're probably all reading breaking dawn, but seeing as I can't read  
that yet, and have nothing better to do, i'm updating anyway.  
because im bored. so heres another chapter.  
have fun reading breaking dawn! _

Beauty

"Let go!" Emmett complained, shaking free of my clad iron grip. We'd been standing still for a couple of minutes now, and I supposed he was getting aggravated by my lack of movement. I gasped, letting my fingers disconnect, and plummeted toward the green grass. His fingers caught me before I could hit the ground, leaving bruises along my arms, perfectly contoured shapes of indigo fingers. Placing my feet on the moss below, he released me, leaving only one cold hand to the small of my back — an action that was almost protective, but more so wary.

I kept my eyes on my feet as we pushed through the brush, making sure that I wouldn't trip over the camouflaged rocks and twigs, until suddenly, we stepped through a small clearing and into an open field.

My eyes grew wide, my stomach flipping like an acrobat, as they took in the scene.

We were at his house — Edward's house, the Cullen's house.

Were they living here, then? Was it perhaps not so stupid of me to have said what I'd said before? _Did_ the people here know their name? If it'd been ninety years or less since I'd passed — if I was Bella at all — wouldn't they have needed to be in hiding, to go to Denali, just in case someone's grandchild recognized them from a picture, a story that was passed along? Surely the kids from our school would have told their offspring of the beautiful, untouchable family that attended school with them, the graduation party that had left every one of them in awe.

Had more time passed than I'd known?

I shook my head, taking in the oversized yard, the melodic hum of water scurrying somewhere deep beneath the cover of jade. Emmett kept his eyes on me as we hurried across the lawn to the enormous white home, his expression guarded. I couldn't fathom the look in his eyes when they swept over me, but it made me nervous, afraid, and, at the same time, it made me miss him even more. He nodded toward the door as I paused on the porch, reluctant to continue. When I didn't respond, the hand on my back hardened, pushing me forward now rather than guiding me. I flinched, but continued further without choice.

The door opened before we reached it, the person on the other side regarding me doubtfully.

"This is Bella?"

My eyes widened and my stomach dropped, my feet planting themselves hard against the wooden floor. Quicker than a human should have been capable of, I wrenched myself away from the girl, clinging to Emmett's side, burying my face into his chest. His icy hands caught my back, protective again, his expression shocked. I squeezed my eyes shut as he looked back and forth between Tanya and me, puzzled.

My body was shaking, my teeth slamming together repeatedly, audibly. I clutched at Emmett's strong torso with every ounce of strength I could find, flinching when his fingers gently tugged me away from him.

"No! No, please!" I begged, hugging him once more. He allowed it this time, wrapping his arms around me and holding me there. I watched with terrified eyes as he looked at the strawberry blonde, his expression hard. He regarded her with distrust, suspicion. I knew that it was probably stupid to have been so afraid of this woman, seeing as more likely than not, I'd never met her before, but it pleased me to see that Emmett was, confusedly, determined to protect me from her.

"Why is she responding to you like that?" He asked her. His voice was stiff, frigid, his eyes penetrating hers with such intense suspicion, reproach, that she stepped back, her mouth opening in shock. Her beautiful features turned sour, incredulous, as he firmly repeated his question. She shook her head in disbelief at the accusing tone he used.

"How the hell should I know?" She hissed, looking back to me, her nose wrinkled in distaste. She snorted. "Hard to believe that he wanted _that_ over _me_." She cackled derisively at her own criticism, seeming even more satisfied with herself when I turned to glare. Her smile widened as I cringed back into Emmett's arctic side. His arms tightened.

"I'm not sure if it's her yet." He murmured. Tanya's eyes became less critical at his words, observing me now with interest, speculation. I froze in my could-be-brother's arms, my heart feeling more like a ticking time-bomb than an internal organ. I couldn't grasp the meaning of what he'd said. He wasn't sure yet? What did that mean?

If he wasn't sure if I was Bella or not…did that mean that there wasn't another Bella out there? It had to mean that, didn't it? Because he would know that _I_ wasn't Bella if she was still alive and kicking. Right?

Maybe Bella did exist, but she'd gone off somewhere with Edward, and Emmett thought that she had come back to tell them that something had happened. That _I_ was the Bella who'd run off somewhere with Edward, and that I was here to tell them that something had gone wrong…something that had left Edward unable to come and tell them himself. Or maybe Bella had gone and married Jacob and hadn't spoken or seen the Cullens in years, and Emmett thought I was her, only he was unsure because it was unlike her to want to see them. Maybe. Or maybe she just really was dead, and he didn't know if I was her reincarnated form or not. But why would he doubt me, then?

Confusion marked my brow as I stared at him, going over all of the possibilities. There were too many _what-ifs_, too many _maybes_. I wanted answers. I wanted the truth.

Emmett's arms tightened further around my waist as he lifted me up off of the ground, cradling me like a small child. He carried me into the home, ignoring me as I tried to claw my way away from him, away from Tanya. Then, completely at ease here, he settled himself on the couch, leaving me sprawled out across his lap, hugging his neck for security. He sighed as Tanya came to sit on the chair opposite us, Irina appearing out of no where to stand just behind her.

I freaked out.

A low, pathetic growl escaped my mouth at the sight of Irina, and my arms departed from Emmett's cool skin, flying out in front of me, the animal taking over, stretching into my muscles and tendons, causing me to act without thinking. Maybe I was insane, but I was going to attack her. She killed him. She killed Jacob!

I launched myself at her face, glaring madly.

Cold fetters clamped down on my wrists, catching me mid-lurch, and my bones collided sharply in my skin as I came to a halt. I could see the astonishment plastered on the faces of both sisters, hear the startled gasp that came from behind me, but I couldn't help but try still to reach her. I knew it was irrational. I just couldn't keep the vision of her fingertips crushing through the bone of Jacob's chest from my crazed eyes. I wanted to avenge him, the death of my lover. It hadn't happened. Not really. I knew that they'd never attacked us, that she'd never killed Jacob, that Tanya had never tortured me in the meadow. I knew it because, if it _had_ happened, they would have been dead. Edward would have killed them. I just couldn't control myself. I couldn't help but hate her, want her dead.

Emmett shook me, bringing my face closer to his, staring at me, shouting words that I couldn't hear through all of the lunatic hatred gripping my mind. Every inch of my skin trembled, itching to get to her, to rip her to shreds. I hated her. I wished she could leak blood if I cut her, some kind of evidence of her pain. Damn them both. I would kill them.

"She killed _who?_" He demanded again. This time his words were clear, and they somehow dulled my rage. I stopped clawing, melting against him again, exhausted with my emotional overload, and shook my head. Had I said that aloud? I hadn't meant to. I hadn't even heard the words leave my mouth. I'd been too consumed with the monster inside of me to realize what I was doing.

I stared at his arm as he lifted my chin with his fingers, trying to get me to answer. I was humiliated with my own behavior, completely horrified with myself. I knew she'd never done a thing to harm my Jacob, that neither of them had ever hurt us. Why couldn't I separate my dreams from reality now? I had managed to find truth, managed to find reality in my life of fantasy. Why couldn't I tell them apart? Why couldn't I stop the hatred from pouring out of my brown eyes as I looked at her face? What was wrong with me? I was completely irrational.

"Hey, you!" Emmett called to me, refusing to call me by the name I'd claimed was mine. He was waiting for an answer, but I wasn't going to give him one. I was too embarrassed by myself to admit it. I wanted to go home to Jacob, to curl into his warm arms and cry, tell him every miserable minute of what had happened to me. I knew he'd understand. I knew he'd love me. Why did Emmett have to do this to me? _Why? _

Emmett sighed.

"Where was he when you called him?" He asked Tanya, his voice thick with irritation, impatience. I watched carefully as both of their eyes scanned the clock on the wall. Her lips pursed before she answered him.

"Canada." She replied. The tone she used was cautious, wary. I knew that she was uncomfortable with me sitting here, in what was apparently her home for the time being. I knew that neither of them knew what to think of me, of the psychotic girl Emmett had brought to their house. I knew that I should have felt apologetic for my ridiculous reactions, but I didn't. I didn't feel sorry at all.

"He shouldn't be too long, then." Emmett mumbled.

"No. He was running, too, so not too long at all. Maybe ten minutes more." Tanya seemed discontented with what she was saying, almost resentful. I couldn't really understand the motive behind her emotions, but I had an idea.

I assumed that they were talking about Edward—that _he_ would be here in ten minutes. I imagined that she would be thinking that he was coming here for _me_, not for her. Maybe that angered her—the fact that I truly _was_ just a human, a pathetic one at that, and that somehow I'd managed to steal his heart when she couldn't. The fact that he didn't love her, want her, but he loved and wanted me…that might have been what made her glare when she looked at me.

Because Edward loved me.

My heartbeat kicked up to an uneven, quicker pace, while I pictured him sitting beside me on the couch. Part of me wanted him to be here, for him to see me and hug me and whisper to me how hard it'd been without me, but I didn't want that part of me to exist. I wanted only to want Jacob. I couldn't settle for just wanting Jacob _more._ I wanted him to be the _only_ one I wanted. I hated that he couldn't be. I hated that I'd always want Edward, too. I truly despised the fact.

I sat waiting, leaning against Emmett's cold chest as he hummed himself a little tune, swaying slightly with the beat of it. Irina had pulled up a chair next to her sister, and was staring glumly at the floor, looking bored. Her facial expressions changed frequently, flickering from confusion to boredom to irritation. Tanya sat straight in her wooden chair, her hands folded on her lap, staring at me.

Her eyes were not red as they had been in my dream, but they were gold, butterscotch. She was gorgeous, equal to Rosalie, even, but not quite surpassing her. Her orange hair flowed prettily over her petite shoulders, her porcelain head cocked slightly to the side as she watched me intently. Her lips were a light pink, perfectly shaped, full. Her cheekbones were high and prominent, lovely. Everything about her was striking.

Her golden irises never left mine, even as her head turned to the right, reacting to the inaudible noises coming from behind the door.

Irina and Emmett, too, turned to face the door as my heart stopped beating, my breath reaching hyperventilation. I started to shake in Emmett's arms, tears stupidly filling my eyes in anxiety. I pulled close into Emmett's chest as I slowly inched my face higher to see the door above his left shoulder. And then, the very second that my eyes located the door, it swung open.

And there he was. Beautiful.

It was too much beauty for one person to be able to have, too much beauty for my eyes to behold. I couldn't bear to look at him, but I couldn't seem to look away. Instantly, his dark eyes met with mine, his face hopeful and exposed. His eyebrows curved above his eyes, expressing his deepening pain, and his jaw muscles pulsed as he clenched his teeth. His nostrils widened, his eyes reacting similarly, and for a split second, he wore the mask of a predator. Quickly, his features returned to their human form, warming. He took one step forward, exaggerating the movement, and ducked his head closer to his chest.

"Bella?"

_(**author's note:** EDWARD CULLENN!! its about time, isn't it? oh and dont worry, jake lovers. he'll be in here soon enough.  
i love him too much to keep him out of the story for long, and so does Anna. so don't give up thinking it'll be all BxE.  
no one knows if it will turn out BxE or JxB. and im not telling. :D mwahah. okay. sorry. im done. bye.)_


	20. Edward

**(Disclaimer- i dont own beautiful creatures like edward and jacob. i  
do own kyle though.. i guess hes kind of pretty. :D)**

_:D hey! so that last chapter got quite a few reviews! i was really surprised about that, too,  
because i figured everyone would be off savoring the pages of BD! but thanks SO MUCH to  
all of you who reviewed! and, as always, paleviolet and watermelonflavored gve me some great ones.  
and queenoftheviciousvines who FINALLY read my new chapters! haha. :) and all the rest of you.  
i really really appreciate it. its so much easier not to doubt myself when i have all of you being all nice  
like that. and guess what?! i tracked down the copy of BD thats being sent to me from amazon, and its CLOSEEEE!  
im really excited. haha. okay. sorry. go on and read. plenty of edward in this chapter.  
wolf fans don't be upset. jake is a part of this story. i promise.  
oh. and, after reading this chapter again, i realized that it starts off REALLY slow and boring.  
i apologize for that. it definitely is not my best writing, but I have to kind of add some buffers before i get  
into the real drama. so yeah. sorry about that. _

Edward

His voice was too sweet, the scent of it so powerful, so long-awaited, that it reached my nose from across the room. It was a separate smell than the one that the rest of his kind, the vampires around me, shared. It was so much better, so much more alluring. Every inch of me ached to cross the space between us, to push myself into the confines of his strong arms and disappear there, lose myself in the touch of him, the scent, the sight.

Tears sadly left my eyes as my fingers tightened on Emmett's shoulder. His arms, too, tightened around my waist, comforting me. He loved me, even though he wasn't sure I was who I said. He was still my brother.

Edward looked at Emmett, his blackened eyes searching the length of his brother's arms, wrapped around me as they were, until they reached his face. They stared at each other for a moment, Edward's features tightening with concentration. They were conversing silently. Going over something they didn't want me to hear.

I attempted to slow my breathing while his focus slid back over to me. My lower lip trembled, watching the look of meditation narrow his eyes, crease his forehead. He stared at me as though he was halfheartedly attempting to piece together a complicated puzzle, like he was focusing very hard on something without really wanting to understand.

He was trying to read my mind.

My eyes widened as a small smile pulled over his mouth. I felt relieved by the tiny grin on his mouth, but his eyes confused me. They were hesitant, perplexed, as he walked, so gracefully, to stand by the couch where I sat with Emmett, seeming to hear my heart beat faster with every forward step of his foot. His stare remained on my face, looking over my forehead, my eyes, my nose, my lips. He repeated the search of my features, looking for something. I couldn't comprehend his actions, and they terrified me.

Emmett's fingers rubbed lightly at my back, noticing my tension, the subtle shake of my form. My head lolled back and forth. I felt as though I'd pass out if Edward came any closer.

As I was thinking this, Edward stopped.

I gasped.

He couldn't possibly read my mind, could he? I'd known before that he'd been trying to, but I'd never really suspected that he'd be _able_ to. He'd never been able to before…but how else would he have known to stop the way that he did? How would he have known what I'd wanted? I'd been trying hard to keep the emotion from my face. How would he have known had he not been listening to the wishes in my head?

Did that mean that I wasn't Bella, if he was able to hear my unspoken thoughts? Or was it possible for me to still be Bella, even if he _could_ now read my mind? Would my rebirth change me that way, too? I'd thought my mind had remained the same, but could it really have changed? Could I really no longer be the only exception to Edward's talents?

I panicked, my breath coming faster now than it had even before, my mouth popping open and my eyes growing large.

_If you can hear this, smile, please, _I begged him through my thoughts, my eyes searching his face desperately. His brow puckered in confusion as I stared at him. The horror I'd been trying hard to conceal suddenly broke free across my face and I started to hyperventilate. I knew it was stupid, but I couldn't stop. Edward's eyes grew with concern and one white hand shot out in front of him as to comfort me from afar. He stole closer to me where I sat on the couch, but only one small step.

He didn't come any further, and he definitely didn't smile.

For a long moment, the room was silent but for my breathing, each set of eyes zeroed in on my face, their expressions a common display of shock, confusion, caution.

Finally, as my hectic breath calmed, Edward cleared his throat.

"Tanya, Irina," He nodded once at them — a late, polite gesture of greeting — his eyes on my face. Irina nodded back, but Tanya's reaction wasn't quite as subtle. The small smile on her face became much more prominent as she looked at him, and she stood, wrapping her thin white arms over his shoulders, pulling him close to her, pretending to forget my presence. He flinched in surprise and irritation, looking at me for my reaction.

My jaw clenched.

Before I could even comprehend what had happened, Tanya skidded back into the wall, her mouth opening in shock before she snapped it shut and scowled. Edward crossed his arms in front of his chest, looking a little smug, glaring balefully at her. She pouted and leaned against the wall, kicking her feet out in front of her and crossing her ankles. She sneered at the three of us, her sister abruptly at her side again.

Emmett snorted, amused by the strawberry-blonde vampire's pathetic efforts, and her head whipped to the side so that she could snarl at him. My eyebrows rose.

"Tanya, Irina, would you mind giving us some privacy?" Edward asked them, gesturing with his chin for them to go through the door, which he'd left open. Irina raised an eyebrow, disbelief causing her to snort. Tanya's jaw muscles flexed, looking quickly, anxiously, at my face before she spoke.

"I'm really enjoying the view from your room, Edward." She cooed, almost frantically. When she looked back at me, that worried expression still plastered to her face, she seemed pleased with my reaction. I knew what she would see on my features: hatred, jealousy — everything she'd hoped to find, everything her words were meant to trigger.

My nostrils flared. I couldn't believe that she had been in his room. No one claimed his room as their own besides him and _me._ How dare she say that? How dare she even think to mention it in front of me?

I hated her. I wanted to wring her neck.

"It was so nice of you to let me stay there." She continued sweetly, throwing an antagonizing glare over her shoulder at me as she crossed the room to stand just inches before him.

He grinded his teeth, eyes narrowed.

I couldn't believe her, acting the way she was. The way she behaved was that of a jealous ex-girlfriend, and while she may have been an ex, she definitely had no reason to be jealous. So why was she so blatantly going out of her way to inflict pain on me? She seemed to enjoy it when I cringed at the words, happy with the fact that she was able to say something that would make _me_ jealous of _her._ Like I didn't have enough reason to be jealous in the first place.

I sighed, trying to rid of the irritation before anyone noticed it. I knew that there was really no chance of that happening. Each of them had hearing sensitive enough to pick up on my quiet reactions. They'd probably already heard the quickening pace of my heart, the silent gasp that came from my mouth, the click of my teeth as they came together behind the tight line of my lips.

Edward looked at me again, careful.

"That's nice, Tanya." He said to her, meeting her desperate eyes with a bored expression. "But please, I'd like to speak to my brother alone."

As I figured she might, Tanya leaned toward me, her arms extended as though to scoop me up like a bag of flour. I knew the second that he said the word 'alone' she'd snag me and take me with her, determined to keep me away from him. I knew what a pathetic girl like her would be thinking, how she wasn't about to let me stay here with him if she didn't get to stay, too. She was such a petty little thing, insecure in her superior beauty so much so that she'd do anything just to eliminate her competition, when really, I was no competition at all.

"No, _she_ can stay." Edward looked pointedly at me, allowing no room for mistakes to be made, because, from what I could tell of Tanya, she'd have tried to pretend like she didn't know who he was talking about. Her eyes widened innocently, and she cocked her head at him, deciding to play dumb anyway.

Her hand struck my arm harshly, her poorly veiled anger leaking into the action. The impact of her cold appendage stung and I flinched, curling away from her before she could get a hold of me. Emmett's arms tugged me to the right, out of the way, as she grinded her teeth, reaching for me again.

"Don't touch her." Edward growled, snatching up Tanya's wrist and tossing her away from me. She fell to the ground behind him, a stunned gasp forming on her full mouth. Her head shot to the left, stabbing him with her cold glare, and she scowled angrily, pushing up from the wooden floor and brushing off her skirt. She glowered at me for a moment before tossing her hair over her shoulder and marching over to Irina.

Huffing, she grabbed her sister's hand and left the room, unsatisfied and humiliated.

I pursed my lips, slightly amused, but not sure if it was reasonable to be feeling that way. My eyes darted from the slammed door to Emmett's jeans below me, avoiding all eye contact. My breath was shaky in the silence of the living room.

Emmett chuckled, his shoulders vibrating against my back, and I looked up to see that both he and Edward were smiling. Edward's smile, sheepish as it was, was beautiful. I'd missed that crooked smile, the one that I'd never seen quite to its fullest in my imagination. Nothing I could ever have dreamt would compare to his smile. Not one thing.

I drew in a deep breath, steadying myself while Emmett quieted.

As the room fell noiseless once again, Emmett became unusually serious, repentant. His lips pursed and his eyes saddened, contracting slightly as he stared at Edward, looking guilty.

Edward smiled reassuringly, leaning in to pat his hand to his brother's shoulder.

The breath caught in my throat at the close proximity Edward had put between us, his forearm just inches from my cheek. I stared at the pale white skin there, my face deepening in color, and he, too, swiftly seemed to notice how small the space between us was. We both froze, his arm completely motionless there in the air next to me, our eyes meeting for a single second. The air thickened around me, changing, the atmosphere charged with an electricity that awakened every single cell in my body.

It was so familiar, so dizzying. It was love, obsession. It might not have been good for me — _he _might not have been good for me — but as Jacob had once put it, he was my drug, and I was addicted. Completely addicted.

My fingers wiggled in my palms, begging to reach for him.

Emmett cleared his throat.

"Well…?" He said, raising his brows suggestively. His gold eyes flickered quickly to mine and away, his jaw clenching when he saw me looking back, shocked that I'd caught him. Maybe I shouldn't have seen it, but there was definitely a meaningful look on his face when he tilted his head toward me, trying to be subtle.

Edward smiled again.

"I'm glad you did what you did, Emmett." He said, answering some unspoken question he'd heard in Emmett's mind. Edward looked at me when he finished speaking, his face soft and warm. A rush of red swelled up over my cheeks and I looked away, embarrassed and unreasonably nervous. There was another reason that I'd averted my eyes from his face, too. It was self-hatred.

I was starting to forget why I'd wanted to come here. I'd forgotten almost completely the struggle it was to make it here, the reason I'd committed a crime and assaulted Carol.

I was starting to forget my need to see Jacob.

_No! _I yelled silently at myself, shaking my head, my eyes closing. _Jacob is the one that you love. He is the reason you came here. You can't forget him. He's the one you need to be with. _

I couldn't let myself get caught up in Edward's charming ways. His voice alone was enough to make me melt into a puddle at his feet. I couldn't let him get to me. I needed to run away from here, run to Jacob. I needed Jacob. _Jacob. Not Edward._

Maybe if I could just get Edward not to speak again…or look at me…

I opened my eyes, determined to stick to my plan of finding Jake, and gasped. Both Emmett and Edward were staring at me, Emmett with one brow raised, Edward with his head cocked a bit to the left, both looking confused and completely intrigued by my internal battle. I looked back and forth between the two lovely faces, hoping I hadn't said any of it out loud, before ducking my head.

"Well, I'm…going to give you two some privacy…" Emmett announced, pushing me gently from his lap and standing up. He stretched, twisting both of his thick arms into the air, a massive and completely phony yawn covering his mouth. He blinked lazily at the two of us, me and Edward, and looked back to the door. "I think I'm going to try and go to sleep." He said. Edward snorted, hearing the rest of the thought before Emmett could say it. Emmett continued anyway. "Maybe I'll see if I can get Tanya and Irina to join me." He elbowed his brother playfully, grinning.

Before I could even raise my eyebrows, Emmett was out the door.

I looked back at Edward, ten thousand questions furrowing my brow. Edward seemed to guess the first one almost immediately, unless he was reading my mind. I still wasn't sure if he could or not. Sure, he hadn't smiled when I'd asked him to in my head, but I'd also been hyperventilating at the time. Who could smile while staring down a psychopath?

I bit my lip. If he _could _hear me…well, I'd thought about Jacob so much over the past couple of minutes…and about my attacking an old woman. What would he think of me if he could hear these things running through my brain?

My stomach plummeted into the soles of my shoes.

"He's joking." Edward told me, nodding in the direction Emmett had just disappeared to. He was trying to sound casual, but his voice shook nervously. "Rosalie would eat him alive if he ever tried anything with those two. She despises them." A smile spread over his lips, leading me to believe that there was more to that story than I'd ever know. I raised an eyebrow, frowning.

"I wonder why." I muttered sarcastically.

Edward's mouth twitched.

"So," He started, his features suddenly serious. He glided over to the couch and sat beside me, his eyes resting on my hand, looking like he wanted to take it in his own. My heart ricocheted in my chest, exploding with agonized longing, matching the look on his face. My fingers shook, and I wished feverishly that he would still them with his own.

He shoved his hand in his pocket instead.

"So," He repeated. "What have you been doing with the past eighteen years of your life, Anna?"

_(**author's note:** GASP!)_


	21. Addiction

**(Disclaimer- again. i wouldn't be typing this if I owned everything.)**

_hey. sorry its taken such a long time for me to update. i've had this done for a while, but  
i didn't really like it...because im a total perfectionist. and so now its doubled in length.. so its  
REALLY long now. my longest chapter yet. i apologize for that, and i know its probably really boring, too.  
haha. darn. but yeah! so i finished BD the other day! it was...well. i don't even KNOW.  
i've formed a sort of love/hate relationship with it. it was so different from the rest of the series that it almost  
felt like an entirely different one. it was very strange. but so.. yes. i'm kind of in a half awed half horrified state now.  
bahhh. did you guys love it!? OH and for everyone that said that i shouldn't have read it before finishing this story..  
may i please ask why? i really didn't see how that could have changed my views. haha. i don't know. maybe i'm slow.  
but i'd really like to know why everyone thought that i shouldn't have read it yet. and i'll just assure all of you that  
by reading breaking dawn, none of my views or opinions have changed. i will still continue this story the same way  
that i intended to from the very beginning, so theres nothing to worry about. :D  
i have nothing left to wait for besides the movie now. i'm pretty excited about that, though. and i'm waiting for  
the twilight guide that comes out dec 30! wooo! thats pretty cool too. haha. but anyway. im probably boring you.  
so lets get on to the reading, huh? :D thank you for the wonderful reviews! _

Addiction

"What?" I gasped. I could see Edward's face through the blanket of fog, but only a little bit. I caught only enough of a glimpse to notice the melting of his curious expression, see how it twisted into shock and concern. I knew what must have caused his face to change so suddenly. I could feel the terror leaking onto my own visage, feel the thrumming of my unstable heart as it tried to escape my chest. Worst of all, I knew that he could see my pain, see the desolate form of my brows, my lips.

Because it was over. There was no hope for me now.

Anna. _Anna._ The name, _my name_, came from his mouth with certainty, echoing inside of my skull, rolling around inside of me, pinning me to the ground. He knew who I was. He'd heard it in my head. He'd read my mind and he'd known my real identity. Even if it _were_ somehow possible for him to suddenly read Bella's mind, he'd called me _Anna_. The beautiful man in front of me was real, but he wasn't mine. Not once was he mine. He was Bella's. And I was just a silly girl.

Edward suddenly took a terrifying dip to the left, tilted so that he almost completely disappeared from my misty vision.

Cold stone fingers clamped down around my sides, lifting me from the waist. He placed me back up onto the couch before my face collided with the wooden floor. I could tell through the fuzz of my eyes that he was confused, worried, but my brain could hardly register it. I still couldn't focus. I felt like a shell of something that used to be, like I was having an out of body experience. Everything I'd wanted, everything I'd hoped existed, _did_ exist…it was real. Every portion of my dreams had a place in this world.

Except for me.

"Are you okay?" He breathed, his face drawing closer to mine, looking into my eyes. His pallid hand reached up, inching toward my neck, but he quickly threw it back on his lap, pursing his lips. His brows were pulled into one line above his eyes, his chest moving quickly with the anxiety of his unnecessary breathing.

He was beautiful, exquisite, but he wasn't mine.

I didn't respond.

"Bella!" His voice flowed with stress as he gave up on his internal battle, flinging his hands up to grab me by the shoulders. He pulled my face to his, trying to wake me from my trance. And it worked. But not because he touched me, because his fingers were gentle and hard and wonderful all at once. Not because he was less than an inch from my face, his breath trickling down over my skin. Not even because he repeated the word again and again, trying to force a response from me.

It worked because he'd said the word at all.

Because he'd called me Bella.

My eyebrows furrowed as I snapped back into reality, trying to make sense of what was going on. Just a minute ago I'd been Anna to him, but now he was calling me Bella again. What was it? Who was I? I was getting tired of having to guess. I needed him to tell me.

"Who am I?" I whispered, my voice drenched with desperation.

His head cocked a bit to the left, still just inches from my own, looking a little sympathetic. His hand left my shoulder, slowly easing its way down the length of my hair from crown to waist. His dark eyes followed the journey of his fingers as they stretched through the locks of my hair, his expression softening.

My breathing stopped as his other hand traced along the line of my face, sliding from my forehead to my jaw. His head shook slowly, seeming a little mesmerized, before he dipped his face lower, his lips just inches from the flesh of my collarbone.

Sniffing me.

I raised an eyebrow, swallowing hard against the urge to pull his face to mine and kiss him. I tried to drag my mind away from the man in front of me, saturating my thoughts with images of Jacob, with the feelings he'd always stirred in me. I couldn't let Edward get to me. I couldn't be with Edward.

But if I was Bella, it would hurt him…hurt _me_…to leave him now for Jacob.

Why did he have to find me first? _Why?_

"Bella." Edward whispered against my skin. I trembled, chilled by his icy breath. He froze there against my collar, his nose lightly gliding against me, until suddenly, I was on his lap, my face buried into his shoulder. His hand stroked my head, rocking me. I melted against him, losing myself in the moment.

I hated myself, but it was beyond my control now.

I was so addicted it hurt.

"You're Bella." He told me, loosening his grip so that I could look at him. "Of course you're Bella." His forehead pressed against mine, his eyelids pulling down. He breathed deeply, inhaling the scent of me. "I've been waiting so long. _So long._"

My gasp stuck in my throat at the agony of his words, completely enticed by the sound of his voice, the sweet honey of his breath. His body was cold underneath mine, and I felt like a puddle of ice in his brilliant hands. I bit my lip, trying hard to keep my head. I was in his arms, Edward's arms. I was his. I was his Bella.

Bella Swan.

"You called me Anna." I whispered quickly, pulling desperately for my own attention, trying to keep myself from being completely absorbed by his perfection. I couldn't lose myself like this. I had to distract myself. I had to say something.

I loved him so much. I was his, but I couldn't let him have me.

It was like finding reality to be sweeter than you'd ever imagined it, to crave it and want it with every inch of your heart and soul, but to know that you can't have it, even though it's yours. It was like forcing yourself to leave a warm shower, even though you enjoyed it, because you knew that if you stayed in for too long, you'd shrivel up. Like asking a madman to stop killing, to give up his bloodlust, his love for the kill, so that he didn't wind up insane. Like giving up the heroin. Giving up the drug.

I needed the air, the sun, so that I could see clearly. My head was all fogged up with Edward. I needed Jacob to show me the light.

I shook my head weakly against Edward's hand as he pulled my face to his, his lips so close, so perfect. My eyelids drooped and my hands clung to his back, pushing him nearer. I fell in close to him, waiting, wishing, _aching_ for his lips to crush mine. I couldn't get enough. I felt high, happy, complete in the arms of my drug. In the arms of Edward. I didn't want to give him up; I didn't want to stop this.

_No! NO! _

"No, Edward. You called me Anna. Why did you call me Anna?" I was in such a hurry to distract myself that I found the words escaping my mouth like a shout, colored with the blackest of anger, directed only toward myself. He flinched away from me, taken aback by my sudden outburst. I winced in apology and guilt, reading the hurt expression in his eyes, but I needed this, I needed to make him stay away from me. I didn't know how much more I would be able to handle. I didn't know how much longer I could control myself.

_Jacob, Jacob, _I thought, trying to insert his name to every single piece of my brain and heart, to butter my conscience with his smile. I couldn't forget him. I had to keep him there behind my lids, constantly in my face. He was the one that I wanted to be with. He was the healthier choice. I could be happy with him…but only if I could say goodbye to Edward. Only if I could break my addiction.

But the burn for the drug was strong, and I couldn't bear it. I needed it.

Edward pushed me away gently, giving himself room so he could explain and look at me at the same time. My face fell into a pout, my fingers extended for him. Even though I wanted him, needed him, I tried to remind myself to be happy with the space between us. I should be relieved to be away from him, to have clean air to suck in and remove me from his spell.

Silently, I released a sigh, relaxing now that the struggle was on pause. I was glad that I didn't have to fight with myself for the moment. It was just too chaotic, too confusing. I didn't want to deal with this. It was almost painful enough for me to wish it all away, to want to go back to that little white cell and sit there all alone. Just to rid of the ache of having to decide.

It was all so hard, and I wasn't strong enough to deal with it. Not strong at all.

"Before, when I called you Bella…you didn't look happy. I thought you'd prefer it if I called you Anna." He murmured, his fingers wrapping around mine comfortably. His hand fit mine like it was made to be there, like _we_ were made to be one. I twitched, nervous beneath his ideal touch, unsure of myself. It was unbearable. My free hand dragged down over my face, exasperated. I scowled.

"But you can read my _mind._" I insisted, looking for an excuse, trying to make him admit that I wasn't who he said. Part of me no longer wanted to be Bella — not to him, anyway. I didn't want to be his Bella — not if it hurt Jacob in the end. But then again, I supposed Jake couldn't be hurt if he didn't know. But could _I_ deal with that?

No. I wanted to be Jacob's.

Edward read the scowl on my face carefully before answering me, his eyes wide.

"No I didn't." He disagreed, shaking his head, his eyebrows pulled together. "I _still_ can't read your mind." It was his turn to scowl now as his eyes traced over my forehead. He seemed disgruntled with the fact that he was still unable to get into my head, looking at me like there might be a button above my eyes that would switch my brain back into a normal frequency — one that he could understand.

I swallowed hard, trying to slow my heart as I watched him watch me. "_How _then? How did you know my name?"

He smiled guiltily, seeming somewhat embarrassed. His black eyes reached up over my head, avoiding contact with mine, and his lips pulled into a tight line. Then he sighed. "Alice, of course." He chuckled reluctantly, taking in my expression with a quick glance.

That was not the answer I'd expected.

"When Tanya called me to announce what Emmett said he'd found, I called Alice. I asked her to look for you, or at least for Emmett, to see if it was worth it. Not that _you _aren't worth it…it's just that…well, I didn't want to come here at first. I was afraid that it wouldn't be you…and that I'd just…" He stopped, chuckling at the tormented sound of his voice. He seemed more self-conscious than I'd ever even thought possible of him. How could someone so absolutely immaculate ever possibly be insecure? It was a little unnerving, but it just melted me toward him even more.

This was going to be _very,_ very hard.

"It's happened once before, you see," He started again. "A couple of years ago, Jasper came across this…girl. He was certain that she was you. I suppose I shouldn't say _certain,_ actually, because no one could really be certain besides me or Alice." He flashed me a brilliant smile, stroking my cheek, leaving a trail of blush behind. "She smelled a little like you, the girl, so I really can't blame Jasper too much for the disappointment he caused me. Her hair was brown, her skin light, but…she was too plain to ever possibly be you."

I snorted at his words, finding them to be completely arguable. I was nothing if not plain. I still could not comprehend his views of me. They were ludicrous, insane. I bit my lip, shaking my head so that I wouldn't interrupt him, but he paused anyway, lifting an eyebrow at my amused reaction. I waved him on with my hand.

"Well…er…since then, I guess it's been hard for me to…to even accept the possibility that you could be out there. It just hurt to think that you wouldn't be…" He paused, staring at the piece of cushion between our two close forms. His eyebrows were furrowed as he contemplated what to say next.

I inched closer, my eyes sympathetic on his lovely face, my fingers rubbing soothing circles into the back of his hand. I was getting pulled into my love for him again, but I couldn't help it.

"That's why Emmett was wary, you know. He didn't want to wind up doing what Jasper did. But you _said _you were Bella this time, so he didn't have much of a choice but to notify me…And it was good that he did. When I called, Alice told me it was you. You looked a little different, she said, but in her vision, she could tell that _I_ knew it was you." He looked back up at me, his black eyes warm, gentle. A small smile tugged the corners of his lips. "So here I am." He finally shrugged, nonchalant.

I smiled, leaning closer to him. He breathed deeply.

"I'm glad that I came." He admitted, smiling sheepishly. "I've been waiting forever for you, Bella. I've had Alice looking for you for years and years, ever since the very first day that Jacob told me about the legend." Edward paused, searching my reaction with his penetrating eyes. I didn't know whether he was doing it to see if I understood what he was talking about, or because he'd heard my shocked intake of breath at the sound of Jake's name.

"We just couldn't find you. Alice couldn't track you down at all." He murmured, staring at our hands entwined together on his leg. I pursed my lips.

"Because she was looking for the wrong name." I whispered. "She was looking for Isabella Swan…but I'm Anna now."

"Yes." He agreed. His dark eyes searched mine, inquiring. He seemed almost shocked that I understood him, intrigued by how much I really did know. "How did you know…how did you even know you were her?"

"I've kind of had these…dreams." I muttered, looking away from him, embarrassed. It was silent for a minute as he digested this, his hand frozen on mine. I tried to keep my face out of sight, hiding the hot flood of red popping up under the skin of my cheeks, but after a few minutes, I couldn't deny the curiosity that his silence provoked.

I gave up, tilting my face upward to better peek at his expression.

His eyes were focused on my face, his mouth tight, looking a little irritated, but patient. He seemed to be waiting for me to explain more. I looked away again, flushing deeper.

"I'd rather not talk about it, actually." I told him. In my peripheral vision, I could see him nod, seeming to accept my disinclination. My body relaxed, happy that he wouldn't demand more information, and I sunk deeper into the cushion behind me. My new jeans were getting a bit disagreeable, though, on the verge of painful as I moved, and I flinched, pulling at one of the pant legs, trying to get more comfy. My hair fell from my shoulder in the process, scaring me, and I gasped, sucking a strand of hair straight into the back of my throat.

I started to choke.

"You smell the same." He informed me casually, twisting the hair out of my mouth and pushing it behind my ear with an amused little grin. His voice was soft as I blushed, his eyes alluring. Leaning in closer, he brought my hand to his face, letting his nose glide over my wrist. "Actually, you smell…well, _better."_

I stiffened, terrified of the pain that this would cause me in the long run. I knew that his compliment should have made me happy, and it did, but the fear was so much stronger. This would kill me…the strengthening of my feelings for him. I was becoming more and more addicted by the second, and I knew that I could never stay. I would have to make myself leave him.

He, too, froze, noticing my tension. He pulled away, his eyes tortured. Quickly, his face became expressionless, the agony there wiping cleanly away, and he became a statue at my side, no longer touching me at all.

"What is it?" I whispered, my fingers reaching to trace the smooth plains of his face. I was shocked by the pain I'd seen in his eyes, even more worried by the mask of apathy that he wore now. It reminded me of something…but I couldn't figure it out.

"You're afraid of me." He mumbled, trying to keep the pain from his voice. My eyes widened, surprised that he would come to that conclusion, struck with the ache that my reaction had caused him. He'd always feared this…that I would run away screaming. I supposed that it wasn't really unreasonable for him to have assumed that I was afraid of _him_. I'd responded the way that any terrified person would have. It was a different fear, though, not a fear of _him_, just a fear of knowing I'd have to _leave_ him. He couldn't have known that, but still…

That was all it took. Just that one ounce of pain on his beautiful face…and I didn't care anymore. I couldn't stand to see him hurt because of me, and this wasn't even _half_ of what he'd go through if I left him now. That one look of torture on his angel's face put me right over the edge.

My arms shot out ahead of me, wrapping around his neck, and I pulled myself close, shaking my head. I buried my face into his chest, reveling in the scent of him, letting the obsession fill me entirely, absolutely addicted. He was unmoving in my arms, confused with my varying emotions.

And my emotions _did_ vary, but there was one emotion that remained utterly constant. I loved him. It wouldn't ever change, no matter how much this addiction impaired me. I couldn't change it — I couldn't even _budge_ the affection that I felt for him. I may have loved Jacob more, but I loved Edward _enough._ Enough to not be able to say goodbye.

How was I going to do this?

"No." I told him quietly. "I'll never be afraid of you, Edward."

_(**author's note:** again, i repeat, jacob lovers, do not fret. i love him. and he'll be in this story soon. don't hate me!)_


	22. When a Stranger Calls

**(Disclaimer- i'm a stephenie meyer wannabe. thats it, though. sigh)**

_hola!! okay. so. i must admit that i've acquired a much...uhmmm. better idea for my story than i originally intended.  
but don't fret, young ones (and not-so-young ones, too, to be fair.) this idea is ultimately my own and did not in any  
way come to me BECAUSE of the fact that I've read breaking dawn. so what i said before remains truthful. BD has not  
affected my views or opinions for this story at all. i just happened to think of something that would make my story  
a little bit more interesting, i suppose you could say. and who knows, anyway. i may not even go along with it.  
my fingers always wind up doing their own thing with the keyboard, anyway. my ideas are never precisely concrete.  
but anywhooooo! heres the next chapter. i hope that you enjoy it. and i promise that things WILL get more enjoyable soon.  
this is all just kind of boring, i realize. but i think its kind of needed as of the moment. so. bear with me, please.  
thank you for the reviews, as always. i plan on making a video some day soon to thank all of you people.  
i'll put a link up here for it eventually, when i get around to making it. :D alright, i'll shut up! byee!_

When a Stranger Calls

Edward raised an eyebrow as I paced behind the couch. He'd turned completely around so that he could watch me more carefully, leaning over the back of the sofa with his knees digging into the cushion below him. His observant black eyes followed me as I continued my small circle, both his brows rising incredulously as I started to sway, getting dizzy.

I braced myself against the back of the couch beside him, avoiding his stare, trying to keep up with the flow of questions burning my ear.

"Yes. I made it." I repeated for the twelfth time. Edward leaned further over the rear of the couch, still trying to look me in the eye. I turned my back on him, flipping my hair over my shoulder to hide my face. I didn't need to look directly at him to see the curiosity of his expression, to understand that he wanted to know who I was talking to. I also didn't need him to tell me that he could hear both sides of the conversation, which ultimately must have made him even _more_ interested.

I sighed, watching Edward silently wander over to the wall of glass. He stared out into the misting sky, pretending to be unconcerned with my conversation for a minute. He must have realized by now that I wasn't about to explain this to him, stupid as it may be.

My reasons for keeping this a secret from him _were_ kind of stupid. I could at least admit that to myself. I just couldn't seem to bring myself to look at Edward, to even so much as raise a finger to let him know that I needed a second to brace myself. I didn't want him to know about Kyle or the promise I'd made him. The thought of telling Edward that I'd _hitchhiked_ to get here, that I'd beaten down an older woman and broken out of a _psych ward_ just to see if he existed—him _and_ Jacob—was enough to make me hyperventilate. It didn't help, either, that I'd all but screamed and chucked the phone out the door when it 'rang' five minutes ago. I'd forgotten about the thing completely, sitting with Edward on the couch. He'd had his arms around me, our faces inching closer together, when my pocket started to vibrate. I'd almost choked to death on the gasp it caused me.

Edward was immediately shocked by my reaction to the phone call, his concern increasing more and more progressively as I continued to ignore him. But what else could I do? The idea of telling him about my…_adventures_ was absolutely petrifying. I could only imagine how he would react to all of that after all of the times that he'd told me to keep myself out of danger. I could easily have gotten myself killed doing those things—or at the very least arrested. If he knew that…

I shuddered, nearly dropping the cell phone propped up against my shoulder.

"So you found what you're looking for, then?" Kyle prodded, sounding a little subdued. It was an innocent question, a result of his constant worry and his compassion for random hitchhikers like me. Still, I froze. Edward responded immediately to my lack of breathing, turning slightly to peek at me from the corner of his thirsty eye. I turned away.

Of course he'd heard Kyle ask me the question, so of _course_ I had no idea how to answer it. If Edward _hadn't_ been able to hear both sides of the conversation, my response would have been simple. "_Not yet," _I would have said to him. It would have been true, seeing as I was looking for one thing in particular—that one thing being six feet and seven inches of russet Indian. But I couldn't possibly say '_not_ _yet'_ in front of Edward. I knew that the second I was off the phone, he'd ask me what that meant.

I didn't think I'd be able to tell him that he wasn't the purpose of my search. Even though it was true, it was kind of harsh. I couldn't think of a single way to explain it to him without hurting him in some way or another. And if I lied, if I told Edward that he _was_ the one I was looking for…well, he'd be able to _tell_ that I was lying.

"Yes." I said into the phone a couple of minutes later. There was no denying the guilty undertone in my voice, and, adding onto the fact that it'd taken me five minutes to respond, anyone would have been able to see that I was lying. I sighed. "Mostly." I amended quietly, scowling.

I thought I saw Edward's mouth twitch as he turned his eyes back to the window-wall, but I might have imagined it.

I sighed again.

"What does that mean, '_mostly'?_" Kyle questioned, his voice thick with suspicion. I pursed my lips, imagining him sitting in his car, his fingers twitching on the key, ready to pop it into the ignition and speed off to save me. I wondered briefly if he would go as far as tracking down the cell phone to figure out where I was, but I quickly shrugged it off. The last thing I needed was to start freaking out about _that_ possibility.

"It means what it means, Kyle." I spit, starting to get a little aggravated with him. Edward glanced over at me again, eyeing me just as suspiciously as Kyle had sounded. I growled a little growl, irritated with both of them now. My lips pressed together into a thin line as I tried to contain my pent up frustration. Edward raised an eyebrow.

"Can I know where you are, then, at least?"

"No, _Kyle_, you can't know where I am. Why don't you just mind your own stinking business?" I gasped, realizing what I'd just said, my cheeks burning red. I groaned, throwing my face into my hands. "No, no. I'm sorry, Kyle. That was horrible of me."

"Yup." He agreed. I made a face, ignoring him so I could finish the apology before I wound up screaming at him instead. I heard Edward chuckle quietly in his corner, but not even his shoulders moved when he did so. He must have been trying very hard to hide his amusement at this point. Damn them both.

I shook my head, determined to finish what I was saying. "You've done a lot for me…and it's wrong of me to go off on you that way. I mean, this _is_ your cell phone. You can call it whenever you want." Of course, that didn't mean that I had to answer it, per say, but I didn't mention that to him.

"But you don't want me to." Kyle murmured matter-of-factly. I knew the look that would be on his face as he said this. I tried not to picture it, biting my lip.

"I'm sorry, Kyle." I apologized again.

"S'fine…Bella, Anna, Riley." He chuckled, completely oblivious to the fact that I was panicking on the other end of the phone. Edward turned to look at me, his expression confused, chary. I froze, staring at him, unable to look away. He didn't avert his eyes, either, as the sweat dewed on my forehead, my fingers trembling. I could see the questions brewing as he stared.

He was definitely going to ask me those questions now. The first one would be why the strange man on the phone called me by three different names.

I swallowed hard.

"I gotta go, Kyle." I whispered, my eyes still nervously zeroed in on Edward's face.

"Bella-Anna-Riley," Kyle started, ignoring me. "What's your last name?"

"I don't want to tell you that, Kyle." I muttered elusively in response.

"Well, you know that I think that's stupid. But…just in case you were wondering, which I'm sure you weren't, my name is Kyle Brandon." His voice was almost desperate as he told me this, drawing back memories of the drive to Forks. I missed him, my only friend. My mouth twitched, watching Edward watch me, knowing that he was waiting for my reaction. I had to admit, the way that Kyle spoke to me wasn't really like that of a friend. It was like I was back in my old life, talking to Jacob. At the time, Jacob had merely been a friend, but he'd always wanted _more_ than friendship. It seemed that it was going to be the same way with Kyle, now. I didn't know how I felt about that.

"Goodbye, then, Kyle Brandon." I said slowly. Edward's eyes narrowed at the terror in my voice. I did _not_ want to hang up with Kyle anymore. The sooner that the phone clicked silent, Edward would be in my face, and I would have to face the horrifying scenario I'd seen in my head—the one with Edward growling like a mountain lion while I whispered, backed into a corner with my face in my hands, about my hitchhiking experience. Maybe I could just put off answering him for a little while…

"Goodbye, my little hitchhiker friend." Kyle snickered.

And then he hung up.

No! No, no, no, no, _no!_ Why did Kyle have to call me that? _Why _did he have to call me that?! Part of me thought that maybe Kyle knew exactly the kind of trouble he was getting me in by snickering the words. Part of me thought that he was pleased, sitting there in his car with a grin on his face, watching from an implanted camera in his cell phone as Edward tore me apart with his enraged eyes.

The picture forming in my head came quickly alive.

Edward's eyes bugged out of his head, and, before I could even blink, he was at my side, his face less than an inch from mine. Even murderously angry, his face still appeared to be gentle, the face of an angel, of God himself. I gulped.

"_Hitchhiker?!"_ He hissed.

_Dammit_ Kyle!

I chuckled nervously, backing away like a scared little mouse in the stalking eyes of a predator. He followed right along behind me, his glare more and more intense by the second. I tried to smile innocently, tugging on my shirt sleeve, a nervous habit.

"It is...well, kind of a long story." I murmured, voice shaky with stress. He smiled wickedly, mockingly.

"I've got an eternity ahead of me, Bella. Shoot." He spit angrily, his voice almost teasing, but far too wrapped up with fury to make anyone in their right mind want to laugh. I swallowed hard.

Just as I was about to make a futile run for the door to escape him, an alarming sound blasted my eardrums from outside of the house, ringing with finality. I stopped dead in the middle of my step, my eyes widening in horror. Edward looked at me quickly, glancing at the door with a look of stunned concentration.

"Bella?" Edward whispered incredulously.

I was sure he wasn't talking to me, sure that he was listening to the thoughts out on the freeway, but even if I wasn't certain of this fact, I wouldn't have been able to respond to him. I was lost in the echo of the terrorizing noise as it blared closer still. I couldn't run. I couldn't hide. I had no idea what to do now.

My heartbeat was almost twice as loud as the sirens.

They were coming to get me.


	23. Storytelling

**(Disclaimer- i own not one single twilighty thing. and its a heartbreaking reality, i'll tell you.)**

_hello lovely people! okay, so thanks to forevertopaz1901, unspoken emotions, paleviolet, wolfseye1, and  
of course, queenoftheviciousvines. you guys leave some pretty flipping awesome reviews. :) and, unspoken emotions,  
i hope this chapter is long enough for you. :D i can definitely try making them longer, if thats what you guys want.  
i normally wind up with like seven pages every time i write a chapter, but i thought that maybe it'd be too much  
for everyone to have to read in a chapter. i normally try to break them down into smaller chapters. but i can  
most definitely make them longer. :D  
alright now. this chapter, i must say, is a favorite of mine. not because the writing is very good, because quite  
truthfully, i don't think my writing is quite up to par at all in this chapter. i kind of rushed through it, i suppose.  
but what i like about this is that i kind of picture the entire scene panning out in my head, and i must say that i find  
it to be quite humorous. i hope that you all enjoy it as much as i did. :D  
please leave reviews, and thank you very much for reading!_

Storytelling

"Bella," Edward started, his voice strained. I looked up at his face with only my eyes, my head unwilling to move. His jaw was tight, his nostrils flared angrily. "Would you mind telling me exactly why the police are after Anna Hensley…or, in other words, _you?"_

I bit my lip, finding somehow the strength to move, and flung myself at him, tears streaking down my face. I couldn't speak even one word of explanation; all I could do was shake with fear and pray to my creator that I not go back to that hellhole they called a mental hospital. This was my last minute with Edward Cullen. My last moment with my fantasy—my reality.

I pushed my face up to his, touching his lips with mine in a way that was both fierce and reluctant, all at once. One part of me screamed profanities, kicking the skirting of my insides in self-hatred. _How could I do this to Jacob!?_ The other half of me clung to the cold man in my arms like a starving man clings to the last loaf of bread on the table.

Edward gasped beneath my mouth.

"Bella!" He breathed, shocked with my forward behavior, tugging me away from him. His black eyes were incredulous, but no longer angry. They were hungry now, instead. I cried harder. "Alice, stall them!" He whispered sternly behind him, scooping me into his arms like a baby. My head whipped itself around, searching for her.

When did Alice get here?

"I _knew _this was going to happen!" Alice muttered hectically, blurring past us from the back door, headed in the direction of the front one. Her black spikes fluttered gently as she breezed past, looking like a perfect little angel. Her tiny body looked so graceful, a magnificent piece of music, played elegantly by a skilled performer. She glided to a stop right in front of the exit, glancing at me with a little twinkle in her eye.

"You couldn't have told me this _earlier, _Alice?" Edward hissed at her, flinging himself toward the other side of the room, aiming for the stairs. My head rocked back into his hard body, colliding with his chest, a low ringing noise booming in my ears. My eyesight became fuzzy with the impact of my crash, and I swallowed hard, trying to stay conscious. Edward's cool hand pressed gently against my cheek, holding me there against him so as not to let it happen again.

The sirens were getting louder.

"Get her upstairs!" Alice commanded, ignoring his jibe. Her voice sounded strange, the irritated stress clashing oddly with the beautiful humming of bells.

Edward seemed to leap over the last of the steps, his movements poised as a dancer and quick as a lion. He finished the next case of stairs just as smoothly, rushing me into the room at the very end of the second-story hallway. He pressed me gently onto his bed, pushing his mouth to mine for a split second, and pulled away, heading for the door.

"Stay." He ordered, pointing a finger at me. I obliged happily, unable to even so much as nod in response. He pursed his lips, looking at me, before throwing the door open and stepping back into the hall. There, suddenly, he froze.

There was a loud knock at the front door.

"Dammit." He muttered, turning around to face me once again. "Should I take her and run?" He asked, staring at my face. For a moment, I was confused, wondering what he meant by his question, but then I realized that he wasn't speaking to me. He was talking to Alice. Of course she would be able to hear him.

He pursed his lips, shaking his head, and came to sit by me.

Apparently Alice's answer had been 'no.'

I breathed hard, on the verge of hyperventilation as I stared at him with round eyes. They were here for me. The police were looking for me—_here. _But how had they found me? Had Kyle ratted me out, used a tracking device to locate his cell phone and help the police? I shook my head, unwilling to believe that he would betray me in such a way. He would never do that to me, would he? Unless they'd threatened him…

Would even the threat of a life sentence in jail bring him to throw me to the sharks?

I didn't think so, but I was a cynical person. I couldn't help but wonder.

Edward's cold arms wrapped around me, pulling me into his side. I didn't struggle against his grip; instead, I let him take me, wishing that, with the arctic chill, he could also bring me numbness. Fervently, I wished that he would make me forget my troubles now like he had that time in the forest, the second time he'd tried to run with me. I could definitely use that kind of distraction at the moment.

I angled my chin upward, looking him in the eye. I hoped that he would understand the language my body was speaking. I prayed that he'd erase my memory completely—wipe away the guilt, the terror, the treachery, the sins.

He understood.

He pressed his freezing lips against mine, taking my attention from the voices echoing up the stairs. I leaned in against him, my heartbeat quickening in worry, as his hand swept down over my back. I could still feel the moisture of my tears rolling down my face, taste the salt bubble over my lips, meeting his.

He pulled away, looking at me with a soft expression. "Shh, my Bella." He placed one stony finger against my mouth, his head tilting toward the door, listening. I, too, listened. The voices were getting louder now.

Edward jumped off the bed agilely, his pants sliding off. My mouth flew open and I gasped, blinking in surprise at the half-naked vampire standing before me. My eyebrows pulled together over my eyes, the pumping of my heart reaching a tempo much too quick to be considered normal. I couldn't believe him. This was _not_ the time for him to overlook his carefully assembled rules of limited physical contact. I only wanted him to make me _forget_, not get me into _bed!_

"Edward!" I protested quietly as he grabbed me. His strong fingers wrapped themselves around my arms, overlapping, and he dragged me into his arms, one hand clasping over my mouth. My eyes widened, not sure if I should continue to object or not. I couldn't help the part of me that was eager. I couldn't hide it, either. My passion was barely hidden in my eyes as I stared up at him in shock.

Edward's lips twitched in humor as he towed me over to the closet, pulling me into the darkness with him. His fingers moved from my mouth, tracing instead over the length of my sides, settling on my hips. I inhaled deeply; the scent of him was so much stronger in here.

"The _closet?_" I whispered incredulously. I'd never taken him to be this kind of man. My eyebrows felt permanently frozen in an arch of confusion over my blind eyes. I pursed my lips, breathing heavily, waiting for him to make his move.

Instead, he chuckled. "Silly girl, hush. Trust me. You need to stay here—don't move until I come to get you." Something brushed across my mouth, so soft I could barely detect it. Was it his lips?

I shivered.

A thin slit of daylight swirled into view for a split second, obscured by his retreat, and then it was gone. Suddenly, I was left in a world of darkness. I sunk to the floor, my fingers gliding over the walls until I met the wooden planks below. I tried not to panic.

Outside the door, I heard another door open—the main door to his room, I assumed. I heard Edward gasp, sounding startled, and then the sound of material being tossed around—the sheets? A man cleared his throat, a slightly embarrassed noise. It was much too gruff to have been Edward. Had the police come upstairs? I covered my mouth to suppress my own frightened gasp.

"I _told _you." Alice chirped, her voice thick with reprimanding. I pressed my ear against the wooden door, putting all of my weight into it, trying to understand what was going on out there.

"Sorry, ma'am. We have our orders." This voice that spoke now matched the earlier tone I'd heard perfectly. He must have been the one who'd cleared his throat. Oddly, he sounded just like Charlie.

I listened harder, my eyebrows inching further up on my forehead. None of this was making sense to me.

"Do you have a search-warrant, gentlemen?" Edward's voice was like pure satin—even and unruffled, completely alluring. There was an awkward shuffling of feet in response to his words, a small stretch of silence. I held my breath.

"No, sir." Another man said shakily after a minute. His voice was higher than the other's, anxious.

"Well, then, if you wouldn't mind, my fiancé and I have some…_business_ to attend to." My face scrunched up in perplexity at his suggestive tone. He waited a minute before he continued, the silence in the room almost deafening besides Alice's flirty giggle. Was she flirting with _Edward?_ I gagged quietly, repulsed. What was going _on _here?

"There's no need to make this into a bigger issue than it already is, wouldn't you agree? Why don't we just pretend that this never even happened, and you can continue whatever it is that _you_ were doing and, well, so can _we._" Edward suggested—_again _with the same indicative tone. The two men agreed quickly, a little nervous with Edward's superior calm, and their footsteps hurried out of the room.

"Sorry, honey." Alice apologized somewhat quietly, seeming to direct the words at her brother. It was loud enough for the men to hear, but quiet enough to still be considered personal. She was quite the actress, Alice Cullen. I couldn't deny that fact. But it still weirded me out.

I made a face, listening to the door click shut.

After a moment of silence, the door in front of me opened and I fell out, plummeting toward the floor.

Edward caught me.

I gasped, taking in the sight of his nearly naked body. All he wore was a pair of light blue boxers. I looked around, noticing the way that the covers of the bed were tossed halfway to the floor, his clothing strewn all over. He grinned sheepishly as I looked back at him, my face frozen in horror, and placed me on the bed.

He slipped on his jeans and shirt while I stared at my hands, shocked and frozen on the bare mattress with my eyes wide. Just as he was pushing the sleeves of his shirt up his forearms, Alice bounced through the door—wearing only a skimpy dress that resembled something more like lingerie. I gaped at her.

"Hey, Bella!" She sat next to me on the bed, throwing her arms around me. I hugged her back quickly, but I wasn't really in the mood for a reunion. I was still too shocked with the situation. I started to ask them about it, but Edward cut me off.

"Good plan, _honey_—sick, a little twisted, maybe, given the circumstances, but good nonetheless." He complimented Alice with a smirk. She smiled back at him, her arm around my shoulders casually.

"Thanks. I figured it'd be easier if we embarrassed them a little bit."

They grinned at each other for a minute, snickering like junior high students who'd just pranked the principal.

"Uh…do you mind telling me what just happened here?" I interrupted their sibling bonding, raising an eyebrow. Edward looked at me amusedly, seeming to doubt my seriousness, raising his brows and tilting his chin down into his chest. He chuckled darkly.

"I believe that _you_ may actually owe _me_ a bit of an explanation first, Bella." He crossed the room quickly, standing in front of me with a hard stare. Alice continued to smile. "What's all this about, Isabella? Hitchhiking and running away from the police? What has gotten into you? Are you _hoping_ to wind up in a jail cell—or, better yet, a coffin?" He flinched at his own words, staring me down. I knew that he wasn't going to settle for any simple explanation. He wanted all of it—the whole truth, nothing but.

I sighed, reluctant, and stared down at the bed. He cleared his throat, tipping my chin up with his finger so that I would look at him. I pursed my lips, stubborn.

"I'm afraid to tell you." I whispered. His brows met in confusion, his eyes softening at the desperate tone I used. He sat with us on the bed, draping his arms over me.

"What are you afraid of, Bella?" Alice asked. I twisted in Edward's arms to look at her, sniffling.

"It's…not a pretty tale. But don't you know that already, Alice? Don't you know the entire story already?"

She smiled gently, giving Edward a strange little look. I blinked.

"No, Bella." She murmured. "I probably _could_ figure it out — see it — if I wanted to, but up until this point, you hadn't planned on telling anyone about this. And I can't see the _past_, you know." She grinned again, flashing me her stark white weapons.

"But don't you _want_ to see?" I insisted, confused. Why wouldn't she look for my story, now that she could?

"I _do, _and so does Edward, but I'm sure he'd rather hear it from you rather than me." Alice turned to him, and he nodded in agreement, ushering me on with his hand.

When I didn't respond, his face seemed to warm, his features melting with compassion. He stroked my cheek. "Bella, love, don't be afraid. I don't care how awful the truth is—I still want to know. Please."

I waited, pursing my lips in silence. I didn't want to explain it to them, but it seemed to be my only option as of the moment. Edward wanted to know, and Alice wouldn't look for my story with her visions. Edward probably wouldn't have given up on getting _me_ to tell him the story anyway—even if he _had_ already heard it from his sister.

There was no escape.

I scowled at his expectant face, sighing. "Fine." I said, raising my hands in surrender.

And then, apprehensively, I began my tale.

_(**author's note:** okay, so if that wasn't exactly...uhhh, clear, then here is what happened with edward and alice: alice came up with the plan to make it look like her, and her "fiance"_ _Edward, were getting a little uhm..."business-like" upstairs. when the police asked to check the home, they found edward in the bed waiting for alice with only his boxers on. so then of course edward gasps in surprise, and the cops are all embarrassed. and then when bella hears the sheets being thrown around, thats edward trying to cover himself up. i hope that wasn't too unclear the way that i wrote it. sorry if it was.)_


	24. Cursed

**(Disclaimer- i am not edward cullen.)**

_But I DO like writing in his point of view. :D this is his pov, in case you didn't catch that. ha.  
alright so, seriously.. i don't know whats wrong with me. i'm a girl, so i SHOULD like writing the GIRL'S  
point of view better. it should be easier for me to identify with the female character, but for some reason, I  
have a much easier time writing the male character povs. jacob and edwards povs are just so much .. more fun..  
i guess..to write! haha. but anyway. enough of my insanity.  
this chapter isn't really funny like the last one. its actually kind of sad. but remember, don't be angry with me. just because  
edward thinks a certain way doesn't mean that he's RIGHT. it doesn't mean that hes wrong though, either. :D  
you'll have no idea what i'm talking about until you finish reading it. but don't be mad at me, please!  
and, i'm sorry unspoken emotions. this one is shorter than the other. but don't worry--the next chapter WILL be long.  
i just had to end this one where i did. :)  
okay. im done talking. please read and review! thanks._

Cursed

I sighed, looking down at Bella lying in my arms. Her breath was even and deep, on the verge of slumber. Her heart sounded so nice, beating the way it was. I'd been waiting for the sound to fill my hopeful ears for such a long time now. It was a miracle to have her here, alive, with me. But I knew that I wouldn't have her for long.

As I was thinking this, I watched the vague flicker of color in Alice's mind, popping up only every so often like the fickle satellite reception on a television during a thunderstorm. I barely acknowledged it anymore; it'd been happening ever since she got here. One minute Bella's future would slither into Alice's brain, flashing a second's worth of image, and then the next it was gone, vanished—just like that.

Alice and I both knew why this was. Bella was thinking of Jacob, her mind just as inconsistent as Alice's visions of her future. Bella didn't know what she wanted. Sometimes, in my sister's mind, there would be a quick glimpse of Bella, with me. Then, as quickly as the picture had come, it dissolved into darkness. The second that Bella changed her mind and decided on Jacob, rather than me, she would disappear from Alice's psychic eye completely.

From what I could tell of Alice's sporadic visions, Bella was, more often than not, set on being with him.

She didn't want to be with me.

_Speaking of Jacob, does Bella know about…?_

The thought trickled into my head like an annoying dripping faucet, trailing off suggestively. Alice's internal voice was too familiar to keep out; the consequences of ignoring her were too dangerous. Alice knew how to get revenge, and she did so well by being extraordinarily annoying—more so than was normal for her. I didn't need to deal with that now.

Trying to be subtle, I fractionally shook my head, the movement so small that no ordinary human would have detected it. Alice pursed her lips, glancing at me quickly before staring off in the other direction again, pretending that she wasn't paying any attention to me, just in case Bella noticed something. I glanced down at the girl in my arms, worried for a minute that she'd caught sight of the miniscule shifting of my head, but her eyes were still closed.

_Are you going to tell her about it?_

I sighed silently, rolling my eyes. That was not a question that could be answered with a simple nod or shake of my head. I hadn't decided whether or not I was going to tell Bella about that. As a matter of fact, my answer to Alice's previous question wasn't even completely truthful. From what I'd observed, it seemed to me that Bella _didn't_ know about it — but then again, we'd never discussed it. Perhaps she really _did_ know about it, and she just didn't feel the need to bring it up with me. After all, she'd seemed to know so much already. Why wouldn't she have known that, too?

I pursed my lips, shrugging my shoulders lightly, trying to be as motionless as possible while I did so.

Suddenly, Bella's breathing slowed, no longer as even as before.

My eyes narrowed reflexively, darting to her face to make sure that she was alright. My glance met hers in surprise, completely stunned that she was wide-awake and staring at me. Her cheeks were light pink, slightly flushed, and her jaw was tight. Her eyes held up a look of suspicion, reading my features. I could feel the guilt on them.

Automatically, my face smoothed out into an expressionless mask.

Bella narrowed her eyes, looking from me to Alice, grinding her teeth. Her skin was pale white in the moonlight shining through the wall of glass, her chocolate eyes so deep that I felt as though I could see right through her—the portal to her soul. She had a beautiful spirit—innocent and caring, magnificent and kind.

I could not imagine this childlike little woman harming anyone. The idea of her assaulting someone was completely unfathomable to me. I'd tried several times while she'd whispered her story to see her in the scenarios she'd described: locked up in a padded cell, perched on her mother's bed like a madwoman, slicing a man's face with a key—_that_ part of her story had me wanting to do some slicing of my own, with my _teeth—_attacking her caretaker and fleeing from the police. And to think that she'd _hitchhiked_ to get here. _My_ Bella, hitchhiking.

I shuddered despite myself, every single scene of possible danger playing through my head like a many-ended movie. I didn't want to believe that she could be so careless, but apparently she could. While I was terrified by this fact, it also angered me to no end.

I gritted my teeth.

"What are you two talking about?" Bella demanded, her voice clear. There was no sign of drowsiness in her tone, no slur to her words. Her brown eyes were bright and alert, her glare intense.

I was wrong—she'd never been sleeping at all.

"I thought you were sleeping…" I muttered incredulously, too astonished to keep the shock to myself. She'd never been able to fool me before, no matter how hard she'd tried. Despite the fact that I couldn't read her mind, I _had_ been able to read her body, the beating of her heart, her breath. Using these things, I normally was able to get a pretty good glimpse of what was going on inside of her head—especially if she was unconscious. But this time she'd done it. She'd tricked me.

I stared at her in wonder.

"Yeah, I've been working on it." Bella explained, a little smug. I blinked at her, amazed. I would never again be able to accuse her of being a horrible actress, and she knew that. She smiled in spite of her self, not quite able to keep her satisfaction contained. She was ecstatic to have been able to prove me wrong.

"Now, tell me." She ordered, cutting into my analyzing.

I frowned, looking over at Alice. She, too, was looking at me.

_I'm not saying a word. It's all up to you, Edward,_ She whispered into my head, a faint ring of antagonism sharpening her thoughts. She smiled broadly, flashing me her teeth in a way that was so annoying only she could pull it off. I grinned tightly back.

"Thanks so much." I muttered sarcastically, rolling my eyes. I chuckled lightly, feigning amusement to conceal my nerves. I turned my eyes back to the beautiful creature between my hands, smoothing her hair. She blinked up at me, waiting. I sighed.

"Is there something in particular you intended to do while you were here, Bella—someone you intended to see?" I murmured this softly, trying to keep my voice as gentle as possible. The very last thing that I wanted to get out of saying this was Bella feeling guilty. It didn't take much to make her turn on herself.

Her eyebrows hooked together, a spasm of sheer panic blanketing her lovely face for a second. She took a minute before answering, working to rid her features of the sudden anxiety, leaving only shock. "What do you mean." She replied, the question coming across as more of a statement due to the lack of inflection in her tone. I knew exactly what the cause of her robotic voice was due to: she was nervous. She knew exactly what I was talking about.

"Your future keeps disappearing." I whispered indifferently, afraid to let even one speck of emotion flood into my words. There was no doubt in my mind that Bella would twist even the slightest bit of my emotion into a sharp-edged knife, one that she would automatically point at herself. She was terrified of hurting me, and bringing this up would only make her feel worse. I wouldn't have said anything if I didn't think that, ultimately, it would help her in the end. She must have been trying to find a way to bring it up—or to sneak past me and run to La Push—without inflicting on me any amount of pain. It would probably be easier for her to not have to be the one to broach the subject.

Agony ripped across her face like an earthquake, her lip quivering like she was going to cry. She shook her head against my chest, sniffling. I pressed my hand lightly against her hair, holding her face to me, shooting a quick, panicked glance at Alice. She bit her lip, focused on my Bella with a look of sympathy and concern. I swallowed, pulling Bella higher up on my lap and rocking her. I knew that she would beat herself up over this, and it terrified me. There had to be some way to let her have her happiness without the subsequent guilt. I had to show her that she _could_ be happy with Jacob, without feeling sorry for me. She shouldn't have to feel undeserving like she did. She _did _deserve this happiness. And I would go to any length to show her that.

"I'm so sorry, Edward." She whispered, her voice broken and chipped like somebody had smacked her. And it was probably true, the comparison. Her own self-loathing was so much worse than a backhand to the face. I flinched at the sound of her misery while she continued to express her regret. "I don't want to hurt you."

I clutched her tighter, my face crumpling with despair for the masochistic girl. I didn't want her to suffer this way. I'd never intended to hurt her, but this _was _hurting her. I had to keep reminding myself, though, just how much greater her pain would have been if she'd been the one to bring it up. She would have hated herself so much more had that been the case. This was the right thing to do. I had to disengage her from this guilt.

I had to let her go. But I didn't want to.

I had no other choice, however. Bella would be happier with him—of that, there was proof. She belonged to Jacob Black, as much as it killed me. My chest ached with a familiar pang of loss, but I tried to keep it from my face. I didn't want her to know, even though the effort was pointless. She knew how I felt.

I wished—like I'd wished on so many other occasions—that I'd never existed. If I'd only died when I was supposed to, none of this would have happened. Her heart would be whole, one piece that was entirely free. Her love for Jacob would be guiltless, and she would be happy. It didn't matter how entirely horrible my life would have been without her, how meaningless the world would seem. I couldn't care less about the ache that the mere thought of never having had the chance to know her caused me. I could bear it, if she was free to be happy. She deserved that love—the beautiful, liberated love that Jacob provided her with. She deserved a happy life with her family—and with me, there was only a curse. I was a burden, though I knew that she'd never admit it. Why had life brewed in its creation these mythical things, these dangerous, horrible _monsters?_

I shouldn't be here.

"It's okay, Bella, love." I whispered, trying desperately to soothe her.

I should not have been sad. Love had not failed me—it had given me meaning, shown me just how beautiful the world could be. Instead of being guilty, I hoped that Bella would someday be able to see just how much she had provided me with. _She_ hadn't hurt me—_I_ had. All that she had ever done was to open my unseeing eyes, blind me with her spirit—her glistening, knowledgeable heart. In a world where I had existed for hundreds of lifetimes, _she_ had shown me the true meaning of living. That was so much more than I could ever have asked for.

Now, all that I could ask of her was that she be happy.

And I knew now, like I'd known then, the one thing that could give her that joy, without the bitter aftertaste of fear and disappointment.

She needed love that shone like the sun, that was pure and free, not careful and dangerous. She needed love that could grow and blossom, love that would forever stay the same, while she grew to be different. She needed love that provided her only with happiness, instead of with toxic remorse. She needed love that would last a lifetime, not love that would take away her life.

Bella, _my_ Bella, needed Jacob.


	25. Mirror, Mirror

**(Disclaimer- no ownageee.)**

_:D okay. so watermelonflavored is the ONLY one who asked the most important question!  
"but wat was alice and edward talking about before about jake if bella knew?" !! no one else  
asked that question! i put that conversation in the last chapter to make you guys ask questions about it. its a big  
part of the story line. :D good job watermelonflavored on asking the big question! and i understand  
that most of you probably were wondering about that conversation, but probably just forgot by the end of  
the chapter. a lot happened in that one. but the answer to that question can be found in this chapter.  
so reeeead it! :D i have the next chapter done and i CANNOT wait to put it up here, so hurry and leave  
me some reviews! :P this is back to bella/anna's pov, by the way.  
and thanks for all the nice reviews!  
oh! just one more thing: this is probably going to be very confusing. but thats okay. its supposed to be._

Mirror, Mirror

I was nervous. My hands were shaking and almost every inch of my skin was covered in a thin layer of perspiration. I watched distantly as my fingers repeatedly curled in on my palms, recoiling after only a second. Faintly, I could hear the whizzing of cars driving past, see the blurred streaks of color in my peripheral vision. I was having a hard time focusing, but I didn't care to even try to concentrate. I knew that I wasn't missing out on any conversation.

Alice had been extremely quiet during the entire drive—an extraordinary feat for the small vampire woman. She'd spoken only twice, when she'd questioned my judgment, uneasy with the idea of dropping me off at the treaty line. She looked at me now, her topaz eyes searching my face for some sign of doubt, some excuse for her to keep driving. I did feel a little indecisive, but I was careful to keep my poker face on this time.

"Are you _sure_ you don't want me to drive you to the house, Bella?" She asked again, her slight hand rested on the lever beside her, itching to pull the car back into drive. Her eyes raked over me again worriedly, assessing my ability to travel on foot. I thought briefly about reminding her of my hitchhiking experience, all of the dangerous exploits I'd been involved with lately, to prove to her my capability. I _could_ take care of myself.

I nodded instead. "And you didn't tell him, right…?" I raised an eyebrow, checking. I'd told her beforehand that I didn't want Jacob to know that I was coming, that I wanted to surprise him. Honestly, that wasn't the case. I was truly just a coward. I was terrified of the possibility that Jake wouldn't recognize me. Just because Edward had been able to identify me didn't mean that Jacob would be able to do the same. After all, he didn't have the same advantages as Edward—he couldn't base his confidence of my identity on the fact that he couldn't hear my thoughts or that my blood smelled better than everyone else's. He could only go by what he witnessed with his dark eyes and how sincere the words that fell out of my mouth seemed to be. There was always the possibility that he wouldn't believe me.

Of course, he could always just ask Edward if I he didn't trust what I was telling him.

I choked on the thought, stunned by how utterly tactless I was. It was horrible enough of me to have agreed so quickly to come here. I'd hardly even taken the time to think about it—to consider how terribly this would affect things…things like Edward. He'd tried to hide his pain from me, to shove it into the back of his mind so that I could be happy, free, to do what I wanted, but I saw past his apathy. I knew that he was hurting—because of me. Though his face had been smooth and his words unconcerned, his eyes had shown me what I was doing to him. They'd proved to me, like a mirror casting my true reflection, just how disgusting a person I really was. I'd received so much more in my life—the two of them, now—than I'd ever deserved, while _he, _the beautiful, praiseworthy creature that he was, was given only _me._

He deserved so much better than that.

I stared at my hands as Alice confirmed Jake's oblivion, trying hard to hold myself together so that I wouldn't break down and cry. If I couldn't get a grip on myself, Alice would—without a doubt—turn the car around and take me back to Edward. Either that or she'd personally carry me into Jake's house and pass me over to him so that _he_ could take care of me. She would not leave me alone to walk the streets if I had an emotional breakdown right now. I'd just have to save the waterworks until she drove away.

I swallowed hard, slipping off of the leather seat and stepping down into the muddied earth on the side of the road. I was glad that Edward hadn't come. He would have seen past my expression of ease—he'd never have let me leave the car by myself. But I needed that alone time right now. I needed to be able to sit by myself in the ditch on the side of the pavement and cry for my own selfish heartache.

I was a despicable person.

"Thanks, Alice." I said as indifferently as I could manage, pushing the door closed. The day was absurdly sunny, the shining rays reflecting off of the spotless deep blue vehicle blindingly. Alice grinned at me as I inspected the exterior of the car, and I knew what she was thinking. I completely believed that she would be asking Edward for this car for Christmas this year. I could see the admiration—the _fixation_—in her eyes when Tanya had grudgingly handed over the keys. Alice loved sports cars.

With one last, apprehensive glance at my face, Alice fired the engine and shot away from me, pulling a sharp u-turn and flicking her skinny hand out the window to wave. My own hand shook when I raised it to return the gesture, and I breathed deeply to soothe my nerves before she could notice. My eyes were stinging with the oncoming tears, and my knees felt weak. I sighed in relief when the speck of cobalt drifted quickly into the distance and out of sight.

Then I collapsed onto my knees in the soft dirt and sobbed.

--

There it was. The house was perfectly tiny and painted in red. The dirt of the driveway was so familiarly beautiful that I could have kissed it, the garage just beyond it, finishing the magical scene. I'd seen it only in my head, but yet my eyes were strangely accustomed to its charm. My breathing accelerated as I stared at the dream-like picture with tears in my eyes, fixated on the open door of the garage.

A man stepped out just then, a can of soda in his hands. He was tall, more than a foot taller than I was, ducking his head to get past the doorway. His shirt was gray and tight, smeared with grease. His jeans were ripped at the knees, faded in color, and his muscles protruded noticeably through his clothing. The jet-black hair on his head was cropped short, choppy and slightly spiked above his exquisite face. The russet color of his skin was incredible in the rays of sun that touched him. He was magnificent, flawless.

Jacob.

I gasped, choking a little bit on the sudden breath, and his head turned to look at me. My eyes were huge as I watched him, my heart skipping too many beats. His black eyes traced over the image of me, and, though he looked a little confused, a huge grin stretched over his mouth, exposing his white teeth. He marched forward, heading straight for me. My breath found no escape from my mouth. I was frozen in time.

As he came closer, I noticed subtle differences in his appearance. His skin was paler than I remembered it—still russet, but a lighter shade. Also, his eyes were not quite as dark as they'd always been in my dreams, and his face was slightly rounder. His lips, too, were not as full. My dreams had apparently not been as correct as I'd thought, but still, his features were not so dissimilar that I could object to who he was. There was no doubting that he was Jacob. He was still just as beautiful, strong, tall. He was mine.

I'd missed him so much.

"Jacob?" I whispered as he drew nearer. His smile widened and he tilted his head to the left a bit, his eyebrows furrowing. The muscles in his right arm twitched, and his long red-brown hand reached out for me. My body locked into place, and I turned into stone right there before him. His feverish skin brushed against mine, nudging me, waiting for a response.

"Yes, Miss?" He said, voice deep and wonderful. A tingling sensation rolled along my spine, and my heart picked itself up and restarted, faster than before. I blinked hard, my lids suddenly heavy with exhaustion. My head slumped a little bit, the greenery around me spinning wildly. He looked as though he was rocking, standing there in front of me with a stunned expression. "Miss." He repeated, grabbing at my arm. His hand was so hot. His face was so beautiful.

He was Jacob, and he was calling me Miss.

He was here, but he had no idea who I was.

My face crumpled and I sagged against him. His strong arms shot out around me, supporting my weight, and his brown eyes enlarged. His breathing grew anxious as he pulled me into his arms, cradling me like a small child. I was hyperventilating, terrifying him. He looked ready to run me to a mental hospital where I belonged. I needed to control myself.

So he didn't know me. He had no idea who I was, but he _was_ here in front of me. I'd never have the nerve to encourage him to go to Edward if he didn't believe what I would tell him, but I _did_ have to tell him. I had to let him know that I was Bella, that I was here because I loved him with every inch of my heart. He was the only one that I could tell about my dreams, the only one that I…no. He wasn't the only one that I wanted to be with, but he was the one that I planned on spending my life with. I had to tell him.

And I would—eventually.

"Sorry." I murmured, trying hard to reign in my crazy behavior. I didn't want to scare him away. For now, I would simply act normal, see how he reacted to me. I missed him too much to waste this time now crying because he couldn't recognize me. I had to spend this moment wisely, take the time to look at him and simply thank God for his existence. It was stupid of me to be wasting time like this. So stupid.

He shook his head, smiling kindly down at me. "'S okay. Don't worry about it. Are you alright, though, sweetheart?" His grin became flirty as he stared at my face. I blinked in amazement, blushing deeply.

"I'm fine, just really tired." I muttered slowly, eyes wide.

He nodded, his eyes sparkling, searching me suggestively. He seemed attracted to me, at least. It made me entirely joyous that he hadn't changed in that way. The fact that I still seemed to appeal to him delighted me. I smiled at him warmly, glancing away in subtle embarrassment. He raised one eyebrow, indicating his interest with a smirk. I cleared my throat quietly, nervous to be so close to him.

Jacob Black was finally holding me again.

"So, what're you doing later?" He winked, pulling me closer. Biting my lip, I considered my answers. Of course I would go anywhere that he wanted me to, but his forward advances were putting me on edge. I hadn't remembered him to be like this. I didn't know what to think of the change.

He raised his eyebrows, tilting his chin lower into his chest, waiting for an answer. I smiled again, sheepishly this time, and snuggled closer to him. He didn't seem to mind being so close to a stranger, and I fully intended on taking advantage of it. Apparently understanding what I was going for, his face inched closer to mine, lips extending. My heart thudded chaotically in my chest. Jacob. My Jacob.

"Jacob Black! Get your mouth away from her _right now._" A familiar voice shouted from not too far away. The words came out as a barking order, spoken the way that a parent may speak to a child.

I jumped as Jacob's head shot up, looking in the direction of the shout with a horrified expression. Then, as he caught sight of who it was, he scowled, obviously unhappy. He placed me back on my feet, crossing his arms in front of his chest, snorting. His warm hand found mine and he pulled me against him anyway, tilting my chin up so that I was looking at his face. The action caused butterflies to stir in my stomach, but it also confused me. He didn't appear to have done this because of _me—_because he didn't want to be away from me. He seemed to have done it just to aggravate the person shouting at him, his face covered with an antagonizing grin.

I was curious as to whom the memorable voice belonged to already, but this act of defiance made me even _more_ interested in who the other person was. Still, though, I was reluctant to get away from the man with his arm around me. I stared at him instead, mesmerized.

"Seriously, kid. You have no idea how gross that is." The voice gagged, right behind me now. He sounded disgusted by the idea of Jacob holding me. I made a face, insulted, while Jacob just stared above my head, looking confused. "This is wrong on _so _many levels. Drop her."

Jacob's mouth popped open, his eyes abruptly bugging out of his head, his understanding triggered by the puzzling words. He peered down at me quickly before returning his horror-struck face in the direction of the person behind me. "Wait. No." He muttered, his voice flat, shaking his head—an act of denial. I blinked, completely perplexed. "No!" He gasped in disgust, dropping his hands from me.

I staggered back, landing myself directly into another set of arms. I inhaled deeply, dizzy again. What was going on here? What had I done that had made me suddenly so unattractive to him? Who was this strange man yelling for Jacob to get off of me? Who did he think he was?

I could come up with only one possible explanation: he was the devil, this man. He was here with the sole intention of taking away my one true love, the happiness I craved most out of this world. I'd finally found my Jacob, only to be taken away by the arms of a demon. I supposed that I deserved this, after all that I'd put Edward through. He was so kind to me, and I was such a selfish, undeserving…well, _bitch_, for the lack of a better word. But still, what right did this man have to take me away from Jacob?

I twisted in his arms, looking for his face. When I found it, my eyes locked on his, and the anger that'd been brewing in my glare completely vanished, replaced with awe. I lost the feeling in my body from my head to my toes, staring at the beautiful, unbelievable face. My breath whooshed out from between my lips like the powerful winds of a tornado. I was sure my eyes had to have grown the size of watermelons.

"Jacob?" I gasped.

It didn't make any sense. Jacob Black was standing behind me, two feet away, his face molded into a mask of pure revulsion, and yet, here he was, also, keeping me from falling face-first into the concrete. I felt dizzy, sick to my stomach, like I'd just stepped into an episode of _The Twilight Zone._ Maybe my stress was causing me to see doubles.

Maybe. But it was unlikely.

"Bella." The Jacob holding me murmured, his warm lips brushing against my hair. Moisture rolled down his cheeks as he held me tighter, his body shaking slightly with emotion. His skin was the same shade as I'd remembered it, not a lighter tint at all. His eyes were black, his hair long, tied into a ponytail at the nape of his beautiful neck. He was the Jacob I remembered.

And he remembered me.

Suddenly, I was crying again, clinging to him as though the universe depended on me to keep it alive with the simple embrace. His fingers swept down over my face, tracing the lines of my features, stroking my jaw line with trembling hands. His lower lip quivered, eyes expressing torment and ecstasy all wrapped into one. This was the man that I loved, the man that I'd come here to find. He was the one that I wanted for the rest of my life—_He_ was Jacob Black.

But then who was the other boy? He'd said his name was Jacob, and _this_ Jacob—the _real_ Jacob—had even _called_ him Jacob Black.

I shook my head, my mind spinning in perplexing little circles.

"If you're Jacob…" I started, touching my Jacob's face, "Then who is that?"

Jacob's eyes changed, the ecstasy draining from them, leaving only the pain. His mouth twisted into a frown, looking quickly at his duplicate before glancing down at me again. His eyes closed then, and he pressed his cheek to the top of my head. I breathed deeply, so happy to be with him. He was exactly how I'd remembered. I should have known that the other boy wasn't the one I'd been looking for the moment that he'd flirted with me. _My_ Jacob Black would never have flirted so intensely with a stranger.

"Bells," He whispered against my hair, pausing to turn my face back to his. He looked so sad. My heart could barely take it. I clutched at him, wishing that I could say something to take away the ache as he spoke again, his voice so beautiful and tortured.

But the words that came from his mouth were horrifying, impossible—because I knew what they meant. They meant that Jacob _wasn't_ mine. He wasn't mine at all. He had a new life now. An entirely new life.

Without me.

His words echoed in my head, picking at my brain like bloodthirsty pigeons. With the blood, they also consumed every ounce of my newly-proclaimed sanity. My heart fell empty in my chest, and a layer of darkness slipped down over my eyes. It was too much to handle. My body, so weak, couldn't take it. With the words still bouncing in my vacant chest, killing me, I silently slipped away from myself.

_"Bells,"_ Jacob said,_ "he's my son."_


	26. New Beginnings

**(i own twilight. thats right! okay..so i don't really. dang it.)**

_i know, I'm a dork. don't mind my disclaimers. they're dumb.  
but anyway, so uh, this chapter I named after the old title of my first story, because i felt that it was  
necessary to do so. it fit very well. Jacob has a new beginning, which is sad for bella, but still. anywhooo.  
this is bella's pov again. i was going to wait to put this chapter up, but I'm SUCH an impatient person.  
its a really horrible personality flaw. ahah. but so, yeah. i know you were all confused when you read the  
last chapter. its wonderful that you were. you were supposed to be. and when i said that jake was the only  
__one that bella/anna could tell about her dreams..well. its true. edward knows that anna HAD those dreams..  
and that because of those dreams she is able to know her true identity, but he doesn't know what HAPPENED in  
her dreams. he just knows she has them. thats all. i hope that answered the question. :D  
but yeah so anyway... please don't read this unless you've reviewed the chapter before it, because i really  
want to know what everyone thinks about the double jacob blacks! :D PLEASE don't read it until you review the last one.  
pleeeeease. and thanks for reading. :)  
**DO NOT READ UNLESS YOU'VE REVIEWED CHAPTER 25!**  
:D thank you._

New Beginnings

"When did this happen?"

I could hear the high voice somewhere far in the distance, speaking through whispers down a long tunnel of time. Each syllable reached me slower than the first, a button pushed on a remote to slow it down. The tone was one that was unrecognizable to me, but through the black shadows in my mind, I registered that it was the voice of a woman. I drifted into the darkness for a moment before being plucked back into murky gray by yet another set of words. I'd have snarled in frustration had I been able to find my voice.

"'Bout two hours ago, when we were talking."

This tone clicked into place in my head, sending incomprehensible sensations to roll through my stomach, slithering like snakes. The wheels turned slowly in my head, churning for reason, my thoughts slipping around these perplexing emotions and trying to find a way inside. The feelings were so intense—sorrow, pain, defeat, bliss, achievement—but my brain could not perceive their meaning. My brow puckered, feeling as though not even mine, but someone else's, whom I was connected to by a single thread. I needed to understand these words. I needed to know what Jacob was saying.

"What were you talking about that made her pass out like this?"

I concentrated harder on the female's terminology, hoping that it would help me to comprehend what Jake had said, but it was difficult. Every time that my brain wrapped itself around one of her words, I would forget how to understand the others, and before I could remember how to listen correctly, they'd disappear into oblivion. I grimaced vicariously, using the body that I was no longer quite connected to. A warm finger traced down over my cheek, but I could barely feel it. I wanted to feel it.

Like an unwelcome spirit, I attempted to repossess my body, but I couldn't seem to find my way back in. Reality avoided me, shutting me out and hanging me to dry inside of the damp wonderings of my mind. It felt like I was bobbing for apples. I kept ducking, trying to wrap my teeth around it, but it just kept slipping away from me—understanding, consciousness, knowledge.

"I just…I told her about our son."

And then there it was: awareness. The two words climbed down from his mouth, sunk into my head, and reeled me back in. Abruptly, the sorrow and the pain, the defeat and the loss—it all fell into place. I understood, just because of those two simple words:

_Our son._

Jacob spoke to the woman softly, his voice so sweet and caring, and yet there was an undertone of guilt. I didn't want him to feel guilty for hurting me, for continuing his life without me. I had died, and he had moved on. He'd married this woman—or skipped marriage entirely—and was now helping her to raise their son. I didn't blame him for not waiting for me. I had been nothing but cruel to him in my prior life—always reeling him in, getting him to fall for me so hard that he'd become no more than a slave to my every command. He'd given me power over him, the key to his warm heart, and I'd used it like the air that I breathe—for my own gratification. I'd breathed it in and spit it back out, swinging him around like a yoyo. I didn't deserve him. It was good that he'd realized that.

It was good that he'd moved on.

But, at the same time, it was horrible—the single most horrible thing in the world.

I wondered sadly if he'd imprinted on her, listening to the conversation continue. I supposed that he probably had, and it killed me. I'd ruined Edward to get to Jacob, and Jacob would have to deny me anyway. He seemed to be happy in this new life with his new love and son. And his son was so _big_—Jacob must have been with this woman for a long time.

My face crumpled with despair.

"You're not the brightest bulb on the tree, Jake."The woman teased, sighing. Her voice held all the care in the world, but there was a subtle antagonism that I'd recognized in the actions of her son. I wondered how long they'd been together, this family, as I listened to the sound of shifting weight, scuttling feet. Then there was another noise—one that I recognized with a shattering heart.

I heard her kiss him.

I almost screamed.

"I'm gonna go talk to _little _Jake, I guess. He's pretty grossed out—traumatized, I'd say." She paused, chuckling. Something brushed against my arm. "Besides," she added dully, "you're boring me." The sound of her shoes clicking against the floor fell away into the distance as she left the room.

I laid there, on the verge of breaking, completely confused by her words. My breath spilled out in little rasps, growing faster, wilder. A warm hand was placed down on my cheek, and Jacob's sweet breath blew into my face. His fingers held the touch of love and compassion that I'd always felt in every one of my dreams, but I knew that it was merely a figment of my imagination. He no longer loved me. His hands were here for comforting, only because of the guilt that he felt. He shouldn't have felt so guilty.

He deserved better than me, and he'd _found_ better than me.

"Bells?" He whispered, shifting the hair off of my face. My lip trembled as I tried to keep my eyes closed, wishing that he would just leave me be. I didn't want him to know that I was awake, but I was sure that I didn't look convincing like I had back at the Cullen's house. This time I could not keep my face straight and calm, could not force the look of slumber to smooth my features. Tears left from under my closed lids, and his arms scooped beneath me, pulling my body into a sitting position.

"Bells, look at me, please?" He begged.

I slowly opened my eyes.

He was less than an inch from my face, his eyes burning with all the intensity of a wild fire. Heat coursed through my veins as I stared into his deep brown eyes, trying to coax the old burning passion out of them. I knew that he shouldn't love me anymore, that he was with someone new and better for him. Still, I couldn't help but catch my breath at the sight of his face. Unbelievably, he looked like he loved me.

I clenched my jaw, trying not to fall for the pathetic illusion my heart had conjured.

He wouldn't leave them for me. After all of the times that I'd hurt and rejected him, he'd never go back to me now that I was practically crawling on my knees for his love. I'd had my chance to be with him. He'd waited for me like he said he would, but I'd chosen Edward. He'd told me so many times that he would love me until…

Until my heart stopped beating.

Suddenly, his former words had a new meaning. He'd said that he would be there for me until the moment my heart stopped beating, and he had. He'd been there, waiting on the sidelines for me to choose him, but I hadn't. I'd chosen Edward, and then my heart had stopped beating—perhaps not in the way that was suggested at the time, but still. He'd kept his word. He'd stuck with his promise.

My lips curled down, opening slightly to let out a tortured cry. I tried to contain it, but I couldn't hold it in anymore. It was like I was back to being just a mind attached by a string to my body—like I was no longer in control. The emotion broke past my thick barrier and spilled out of me like an avalanche. Moisture cascaded down my face like the persistent tides of the ocean, pulling me deeper and deeper into a dark blue sorrow.

He wasn't mine. He really wasn't mine anymore.

Jacob's mouth came down on mine hard and rough, pushing me back against the wall. The sheets beneath me crumpled as I slid back further on the bed, the back of my head—protected by his hand—knocking into the hard surface dividing this room from the next. I gasped beneath his lips, my fingers desperate for him, tugging him closer. While my heart gave way, pushing down the remnants of its protective wall, my mind was somehow able to stay sensible.

This was wrong. As much as it was right—wonderfully right—it was wrong.

"No, Jake," I pushed at him, my words coming out slurred and jumbled beneath the force of his sudden passion. I couldn't let him go on like this. I couldn't let him ruin his new beginning because of the remorse that he felt for abandoning me. He'd had every right to do what he did. He was _supposed_ to move on. Once upon a time I'd _wished_ that he would move on, just so that I could be happy with Edward without feeling like I was at fault for making _him_ unhappy. Now, he had done that—he'd moved on.

I didn't want him to feel ashamed of being happy.

"Jacob, _stop it!"_ I shrieked, my sobs getting louder. He pulled away from me with an angry expression, looking beyond annoyed. His hands were hard on my shoulders—restraining me from getting up and leaving. I sniffled, trying to stop the embarrassing flood of tears. He shouldn't have to see me breaking down like this. It would only make him feel bad.

"Why did you come here, Bells?" He growled at me, his hands gently shaking me. I blinked, terrified by the fierce edge of his voice. His lips quivered, cast down in a scowl, and his nostrils flared. The black of his eyes was clouded by a shiny film of tears, and his breath was uneven, his chest rising and falling noticeably with fury. "Why?" He repeated as I stared at him in shock.

I trembled in his strong hands, terrified—but more so of myself than his furious behavior. The way that he'd kissed me, the way that he'd shoved me into the wall behind us…all of it was infuriated. He was livid with me, with the fact that he had to give up his own happiness so that I wouldn't feel bad. He hated me, and I understood. I hated me, too. I was horrified by how I'd walked in here, expecting him to just be sitting here waiting for me. I was so stupid, so self-absorbed and ignorant, that I'd truly thought that he'd have nothing better to do than sit in his room and cry for me. I was so horrible — vile and repulsive and egocentric and worthless.

I couldn't stand to hear my own atrocious thoughts. I didn't want to share the same heart. I didn't want to be who I was. I would have spit on myself had I not been so afraid to turn my gaze from his angry face.

I bit my lip. "I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have come. I didn't mean to hurt you." The words were broken and dismantled as they left my lips, obscured by my pitiful sobs. I closed my eyes tightly, undeserving of even the wondrous sight of his perfect countenance.

"Look at me!" He barked, his words sharp-edged and cutting. I felt them slice through my ears and down through my chest like razor blades. I deserved it. I deserved the way that he despised me. My eyelids pulled apart quickly and I stared at him. He seemed to be struggling with the angry set of his mouth, his eyes weakening in their furious rage. Desperation and misery were slowly replacing his prior emotions, and it was my fault.

First, he'd been pissed with me for tearing his life apart—for showing up like I did. Now, he was mourning the happiness that I'd destroyed.

I'd done this to him.

I was an unstoppable, unstable, devious little leach. Jacob may have called Edward the leach, but _I _was the real parasite—sucking the joy out of every life that got in my way, leaving a path of destruction everywhere that I went.

"Edward told me that you came here for _me. _That you wanted to be with _me._ Why would he tell me that, Bella? _Why _would he _tell me that?!_ Why are you doing this to me? Can't you make up your mind? You must have done something to make him think that you want _me, _but you don't, do you? I can tell that you don't want to be here! What was the point of showing up, of doing this to me, if you didn't intend to stay? I've waited _so long_ for you Bella! I've been waiting for you to come back to me, and you did. But for what? You're not even going to stay, are you?! _Are you?!_" His shouting turned into sobbing quickly. Tears fell from his eyes in devastating little lines that dripped over his face, darkening the skin beneath it. His fingers loosened on my shoulders, gentler now, and he shook his head, denying the pain.

I started crying harder, too, my hands no longer dead at my sides. I lifted my arms to stroke his face, his hands, his shoulders. I couldn't think of anything intelligent to say that would calm him, that would take away the pain, but I had to say something.

"They said they weren't going to tell you." I whispered weakly.

"Yeah? Well they _lied_."

He turned his face away from me as I stretched my hand to his cheek. I dropped it to my side immediately, stung by his rejection, staring at my lap, ashamed. How could I have hurt him like this?

"Jacob, I'm so sorry. I promise, I'll leave. You don't have to be in such pain because of me. Don't feel sorry for me. You deserve to be happy, and I'm stupid. So please, just…forget about this. I didn't mean to ruin you like this—the life you've built with your family. You and your son and…and…and her. You can be happy. I'm so sorry." I hung my head in disgrace, closing my eyes. I hoped that he would just accept my words and continue on with his happy life. I didn't _want_ him to forget me—I didn't want to leave, to be away from him…but he needed me gone. I would do anything to make him happy again. I'd done my share of hurting him. I was through with it—no matter what.

Jacob's hand pushed my chin up from my chest, forcing me to face him. My eyes opened slowly, and I saw the confusion in his. His brows were hooked, his mouth opened as though to ask a question, but he was utterly silent. He stared at me—not breathing—just looking, the tears rolling still. Then finally his question came in a whisper.

_"What?"_

Now I was the one looking confused.

"Bells, what are you _talking_ about? Who is this '_her'?_ You think that I'm _happ_y? _How _could you think that I'm _happy?_" All of his questions came out like one giant inquiry—slurred and fast and incredulous. I pursed my lips, wishing that he would stop playing dumb and just own up to the fact that he'd moved on. I'd heard the kiss—heard him telling her about _their_ kid. He wasn't fooling anyone but himself if he thought that I was believing any of his crap.

"Of _course_ you're happy, Jacob." I murmured. "You've moved on and…found someone new. It's perfectly normal, so _please_ stop trying to soothe me with lies. Aren't you the one who's supposed to tell me the truth—even if it hurts?" I eyed him suspiciously as he convulsed on the bed, looking like he was having a heart attack. His hands were out in front of him, shaking, palms up, like he was conjuring the power to fuel another round of questions—either that, or he was trying to convince himself _not_ to strangle me. He took a deep breath, trying to calm his seizure-like reaction, placing his hands on either side of my face instead.

"_Bells._ There is _no one else. _I am _not happy. _I've been waiting for _you._ If you honestly think that I've moved on…then well, you're _stupid_, Bells. Really." He shook his head at me, his eyes warm. The anger was gone, though he still looked a little irritated.

But more than irritation, he looked like he wanted to kiss me again.

Trying to breathe evenly, I spit out all of the evidence that I had, determined to catch him in his lies. Why was he doing this? I was giving him the chance to go back into his happy life without me, and he was just being…well, Jacob.

"Jake. I heard you talking about your son. She asked you what you said to me, and you said 'I told her about our son,' or something. _OUR _son, Jacob. _Our. _You had a kid with that woman — I heard you talking about it! And now you're sitting here blatantly lying to me?!"

His mouthed popped open in angry disbelief, leaning toward me, trying to interrupt.

"I _heard_ her _kiss you!"_ I screamed before he could get a word in.

He slanted backwards, away from me, his eyes wide. Then suddenly, he was glaring at me. He tipped closer again, his face an inch from mine. His jaw was tight.

"Bella," He said the word slowly, talking to me like I was mentally challenged. I narrowed my eyes, grinding my teeth. He was really starting to get on my nerves. "Bella, _honey, _that girl you heard me talking to—yeah. That was my _sister. _You know, Rachel?"

I gaped at him.

"B-but I…I _heard _her kiss you!" I shook my head, denying to believe what he was telling me. I knew what I'd heard—she most definitely had kissed him. He rolled his eyes, looking a bit exasperated with me. His strong hand cupped my chin, his eyes large, stressing the words that came from his mouth.

"She kissed her _hand,_ Bells. Her _hand. _She was blowing me a kiss—being annoying because I was glaring at her. She did it to irritate me. She didn't really _kiss _me. That's just disgusting." He made a face, looking toward the door.

The door flipped open then, and a pretty girl walked in with her hand over her mouth. Her hair was long and glossy black, waving down to the middle of back, curling down over her russet arm. She was tall and thin, her face and form both resembling Leah's, but she was much prettier. Her eyes were a sparkling light brown, her hand dainty and feminine over her mouth—hiding a huge grin. She snickered, looking at us amusedly.

"I'm sorry." She giggled, her eyes wrinkling somehow prettily as her face scrunched up with humor. "I heard this entire conversation, and I've gotta say, Jake, you sure can pick 'em. No offense to you." She glanced at me, grimacing to express her apology. I stared at her, my jaw slack. "He's not lying. I'm his sister, Rachel. Nice to meet you." She chuckled again, slapping her hand back over her mouth.

Jacob glared at me, but I knew it was her that the glower was meant for. He growled halfheartedly as she continued to giggle, grinding his teeth. One long arm stretched out behind him, his pointer finger extended toward the door.

_"Out."_ He ordered her.

"Just trying to help." Rachel snickered, pressing her lips together.

Jacob growled again.

Biting her full bottom lip to hide her humored smile, she left quietly, pulling the door shut behind her.

Jacob's eyes hadn't left my face once. I looked at him, inspecting the way that his lips were slightly parted, his eyes warm, intense, determined. The rest of his face was smooth, calm, and his head was tilted to the side a bit. His breath came even and deep, reaching my face, less than an inch away now. I swallowed hard.

I'd made a mistake.

His lips landed on mine once more, his arms wrapping around the top of my shoulders, dragging me to him. I didn't object this time. Instead, my fingers curled into his hair, my mouth moving against his the way that I'd always imagined it would. Even in this slightly new body — this new life — it wasn't even the teensiest bit uncomfortable being this close to him. He was and always had been the one that I loved, the one that I'd never want to be away from. Of course I loved Edward, too, and it killed me not to be near him, but I'd always been a determined person. Once my mind was made, I stuck to that decision. And I'd decided on Jacob this time. I wasn't going to give up on that.

But wait.

"Jacob," I breathed against him. He grunted in response, his lips still eagerly pressing against mine. It took me a minute to remember what I was going to say, but I eventually got a hold of myself. I pushed lightly against his chest, claiming that I needed to breathe. He backed away for a second, letting me gulp some oxygen, before plunging forward again, aiming. "No, wait!" I managed to gasp, placing both hands over his mouth. He froze, scowling.

"What?" He complained, irritated. My mouth twitched as I tried to hide a smirk. I pressed my lips together before speaking again, making sure that I could control myself. When I was sure that I had it together, I answered him. There was one thing on my mind that was making this still a little hard to believe — one piece of my earlier evidence that had gone unspoken for. I needed just one more answer.

"When you were talking to…your sister, you said '_our_ son.'"

Jacob's mouth stretched into a grin, grabbing both of my hands and sliding them out of the way—making stopping him impossible. I exhaled sharply as his smile widened even more, his fingers smoothing my hair.

"Yes, Bells." He agreed, his voice wonderfully husky. "_Our _son. Me. You. _Our."_

And then he kissed me again.


	27. Fantasy

**(Disclaimer- i own a box of mechanical pencils.)**

_:D hey there. so im pretty gosh darn excited. i've been trying to make my chapters longer, and  
i've accomplished the LONGEST chapter i've ever written. most of the time my chapters are--at longest--  
six pages. this time, I've tacked on TWO more pages. EIGHT PAGES BABY! :D wooooo! yeah, but also,  
that may not be so great. there is always the chance that you'll be completely unenthused with my new  
and perhaps excruciatingly long chapters. if that is the case, and this is too long to the point where it becomes boring,  
please do tell me. haha. i would very much appreciate it. oh. and this chapter is going to be a bit confusing, too.  
are any of my chapters NOT confusing? i think i secretly like confusing people. not that its much of a secret now.  
but yeah. so. read and review please. i've been getting some AMAZING reviews lately. you guys are seriously kicking butt.  
if i can get ten reviews or more for this chapter, i'll update three chapters in one day--i'll work overtime for you. :)  
oh. and i'd just like to say that this story is not ANYWHERE near being finished. so i truly hope that you're into the long  
fanfictions. :D and also, i've been having some problems with this computer. my own computer died, so i've been using  
this one, but now this, too, is starting to get sucky. so thats why my chapters have been coming in slower.  
sorry. im going to go now. this is long enough already. :P byeeee! leave reviews! :D_

Fantasy

"Why are you acting so strange?" I asked curiously, my voice light and cheery, tainted only with subtle perplexity. There were thousands of other questions in my head, so many things that I needed to figure out. It would have been smarter to have been discussing my dreams, finding out if they were in fact real, asking him if that was how our son was made. I mean, I could see no other possible explanation for how this had all happened. My dream _had_ to have been instead a memory. Maybe this was my second time coming back. Maybe I was here—reincarnated—for a _second_ time. Maybe the first time I'd died, I'd been shot. Then I'd died _again. _

It all made perfect sense if that was the case. In my dream, Jacob and I had…made a child. I'd been pregnant with his baby, but I'd never gotten a chance to _have_ the baby because of the fight we'd gotten in with Tanya and Irina. But then again, that part _couldn't _be explained. I mean, sure, I still felt afraid around the beautiful sisters, but why would Emmett have asked why I was afraid of them? If we'd gotten into that huge fight, and they'd killed me the second time, wouldn't Emmett have known? Or maybe he just didn't expect me to remember it, because I was part of a different life now. But no, that wouldn't work, either, because both sisters would have been dead.

So that part didn't work. But it _did_ explain the kid. Maybe, instead of my dream ending in Jacob and my baby dying, _I _had really been the one to go. I could see why—in my dream—I'd thought that they were dead instead of me. Either way, they were taken from me. But then how would Edward have been the one to tell me…? _He _surely wasn't deceased, either. But maybe I'd only been _dying_ at the time—not quite gone yet.

It was stupid of me not to question Jacob, to ask him for the truth, to find out if what was running through my head was valid. I just didn't want to know yet. I wanted to just shut down my mind and enjoy his presence. One single day of normality with the man that I loved was all I could ask for.

But I could see now that normality would surely avoid me. There was nothing normal about this day.

I smiled up at the beautiful russet creature, cocking my head to the right and shielding my eyes from the bright sun just above his hair. His eyes glistened as he gazed back, his head haloed by the golden rays. He smiled indulgently, shifting his erratic eyes to the ground. His skin glowed as he stood there before me; his warm face was innocent and expressive. He seemed to be having a hard time looking at me, but his gaze kept somehow finding its way back to my face.

His smile expanded then, twitching with embarrassment, and his eyes flickered back to me; they were glistening with tears.

Automatically, the grin melted from my mouth and I stepped to his side, touching my fingertips to his jaw line. I watched him carefully, wondering what it was that I'd done to make him so abruptly sad. I wished that I could wipe away the tears from his cheeks, but I couldn't reach them. Trying, I stretched onto my tiptoes and pointed my fingers as far as they'd go. One lone tear settled on the flesh of my pointer, magnificent and rainbow-colored in the setting sun. I inspected it.

"What's wrong, Jake?" I whispered, snuggling my other hand further into his palm. His mouth pursed, clashing strangely with the sweet smile on his lips. He bent down to press them against my hair, his hand warm on my shoulder. He seemed more than reluctant to give me an answer.

What had I done to make him cry?

He sighed as I continued to stare at him, expecting an answer. His black eyes bore into mine, intense and amused and terrified all at once. I couldn't make sense of his odd expression, the absurd way that he was behaving today. He'd been refusing to leave my side since he'd told me about our son this morning—declining an invitation to Embry's barbecue and refusing to phase into a wolf to help out the pack—and yet he wouldn't talk much. He just kept staring, blushing when he was caught, and looking away. He wasn't acting like Jacob at all.

"It's stupid, actually." He admitted, turning to face me as we continued to stroll through the thin strip of sand. He hadn't let go of my hand once. I glanced at it, hoping that it wasn't getting all sweaty and gross beneath the heat of his, before demanding that he tell me what was wrong. He chuckled at the authoritative tone I'd used, stopping in place.

"I'm just being a baby. I mean, I can't stop _looking _at you. After all the years I've spent _wishing _I could look at you…I just can't _stop._ I don't want to. But then I get all stupid and afraid…"

"Of what—looking at me?"

"No, not really." There was a moment of silence while he contemplated his answer. Then he changed his mind. "Well…kind of," He corrected. "It's terrifying to think that you could just disappear within seconds. One second you're here, beautiful and alive, and then the next—poof. You're not. It's really scary. It hurts to look at you, thinking that any one of these times that my eyes meet yours could be the very _last_ time. No one knows how many chances a person gets with this reincarnation thing. So if we screw it up this time…" He trailed off, voice sad and frightened. His lids contracted around the watery eyes, lip gently quivering. He bent his face to mine and kissed me lightly on the mouth.

"Or this. This could be the very last time I kiss you." He paused, tracing the shape of my bottom lip with both of his. "Bells, I don't want to be a control freak. Really, I don't. But I'm having a hard time keeping my hands off you—in more ways than one. I keep getting this urge to just throw you in my arms and run like hell with you. I wouldn't even know where to _go. _I just want to get you away…somewhere real safe where I can't lose you again."

We stared at each other, the cool evening air silenced. Not one other person was anywhere near the beach; we had the entire night to ourselves. All of the world as far as we could see it—it was ours alone.

"Jake." I whispered, touching his cheek. He gazed at me as I shook my head. "It wasn't the last time."

His eyebrows met in the center of his forehead, thoroughly confused, his black eyes searching mine. I found no signs of understanding on his puzzled face, but it didn't stop me. He'd figure it out soon enough.

I pressed my lips against his, inhaling the briny scent of his skin. When I finally pulled away, breathless and dizzy, he smirked. His hand curled around the back of my neck, holding me to him. I didn't object, and he didn't remove it. I bit my lip.

"I get it." He informed me. "You meant it wasn't the last kiss."

"Nice job, Captain Obvious." I raised an eyebrow, whispering a tone that very much contrasted with the sarcastic words I used; my voice was gentle, caring, my eyes zeroed in on his face.

He grinned at me.

"Well," I started, teasing, "You don't have to worry about me screwing up my life this time." I smiled at the confusion on his features, placing my right hand over my heart, my other hand straight in the air by the side of my head, arm bent at the elbow. His eyes traced over the motions of my signaled pledge, raising his brows. "I promise to stay far away from the woods unless it is completely clear. I'll even let you check first to make sure that no one is there to shoot me. No hunters." I smiled at him.

His brow puckered further, furrowing deeper, a look of pure confusion stuck there like it was molded into his skin. I blinked at him, waiting for him to smile back, but the smile never came. I looked away in discomfort, feeling awkward. Apparently my joke wasn't as funny as I'd thought.

"Bella…what are you—"

"Dad!" Jacob Junior greeted, running over to us. He was bare-chested, his skin glistening with sweat. I bit at my bottom lip, averting my eyes from the man—my _son—_feeling the same horror I'd felt when I first was told who he was. I understood now the revulsion that had taken place on his face when he was holding me, understood why _my_ Jacob had told him that it was wrong on so many levels. It made sense to me now…and it embarrassed me completely.

My cheeks burned red as the man-child came closer, nodding politely in my direction. His eyes were shy as they searched my face. My Jacob tightened his grip on my waist, pulling me into him and squeezing my hand. I was frozen there, joints all locked up.

"…Mom." Little Jacob said uncertainly, looking as uncomfortable with his greeting as I was. I swallowed hard, my eyes bulging out of my face. It was the first time he'd called me that, and it was _very_ strange to hear. He looked as though he was in his twenties—older than me—and here he was calling me Mom. _Mom! _

I shuddered.

"You don't have to call me that if you don't want to, you know."

He nodded quickly, his shoulders relaxing as he sauntered closer still. My Jacob watched us both as we regarded each other. He'd apologized earlier for …our son's behavior with me that first time. He'd said that Little Jake was too much of a flirt for his own good—that he must have inherited some of my skills. He'd said that with an amused little smirk, undoubtedly referring to the time I'd flirted my way into getting information about the Cullens that time at the beach.

Some joke _that_ was.

"Dad, you mind if I talk to…" He paused hesitantly, looking away from us. I could see the wheels turning in his head, trying to think of what would be best to call me. What would _I _be comfortable with him calling me? Mom? Bella? Anna? It?

"Do you mind if I talk to her for a minute?" He gestured toward me with his chin, smiling apprehensively. His hands were buried under the fabric of his sweat-pant's pockets, the muscles of his chest and arms hard and clear through his reddish skin. He looked so much like Jacob—it was uncanny. Yet now that I knew what I was looking for, I was shocked to see that he resembled _me_, too.

My jaw dropped.

"Go ahead. Talk." My Jacob said briskly.

Our son grimaced, letting out a sigh. He rolled his eyes at his father, glaring.

"You know what I mean. Alone?"

My Jacob looked at me carefully, assessing my posture, trying to see if I was comfortable enough with my…son…to be left alone with him. His hand rubbed against my arm, warming me as I shivered in the cool air. Little Jacob watched him the entire time, making faces when his father looked too lovey-dovey. My Jacob's gaze turned hard when he saw the scowl on his mini-me.

"No." He said flatly.

"C'mon, man!" Little Jake complained, the whiney tone sounding very odd with the deep voice, stomping over to us and snatching my arm away from his father's hand. He pulled me against his chest, turning me so that My Jacob couldn't steal me back, and waved his father away with his hand. My Jacob looked at him like he was crazy, his eyes bulging.

"You keep your grubby hands _off_ her you little mongrel." He threatened Jacob Junior, glaring the way that parents always do. My neck started to hurt from whipping my head back and forth as they talked. I blinked drowsily as Little Jake's hands ripped away from me, throwing them into the air in a position that often signaled surrender.

"Hey! That's not fair, Dad. You know I didn't know she was _Mom_ then!"

My Jacob chuckled at the defensive tone his son used, leaning across to punch his shoulder. His eyes were warm when they looked at his duplicate, caring the way a parent should be, but there was something else there. Irritation or hidden fury, maybe, but I didn't see why he would be irritated or angry with our son.

Our son.

It hit me again like a tidal wave, and I had to take a deep breath so I wouldn't hyperventilate the way I had when he'd first told me. I shoved my fingers into the pockets of my borrowed coat, glancing down at it again. I unquestionably looked like an idiot wearing Jacob's clothes. They were much too big for me. His coat was halfway down my legs and much too big to even be considered a dress. It was like donning a tent.

"I'll be over at our driftwood tree," My Jake whispered to me, brushing his finger across my cheek with a smile. I shuddered beneath his touch, my eyes darting self-consciously to see Little Jake forge a gag. I snickered at him, finding his repulsion to be amusing.

"But you'll be able to hear us from there!" He interjected, throwing his palms up toward the sky in exasperation. My Jacob looked back at him, letting go of my waist and raising an eyebrow suspiciously. Little Jacob quieted down immediately, watching his father with a wary expression.

"Is there something you're trying to hide, kid?"

"No!"

"Well then I guess I can hear."

My Jacob took off in a sprint, running off into the distance and sprawling out on the white spider that was a piece of driftwood. It was the first place we'd gone together when we met, the place where all of it started. It had significance.

Little Jake scowled after his dad, but when a minute had passed, he seemed to remember my presence and swiftly turned to face me again. He half-smiled, awkwardly kicking the sand beneath his feet.

I watched him, observing the lightness of his russet skin, knowing that it was my fair color that had bleached the darkness of his. His eyes, too, were lighter in shade, more chocolate than black, matching my own. They weren't muddy like mine were now, but they were the hue of brown mine had been back when I was born Isabella Marie Swan. His face was also shaped more like mine was.

He was a beautiful combination of me and Jacob. Stunning, really.

"So…" He started casually. I could hear the hesitation in his voice. "Well, I guess it's probably hard trying to keep up with _two _Jacobs." He chuckled lightly, his voice deep and throaty. I marveled at the sound of it, blinking at him with my head dipped to the side. He watched in anxiety as I stayed frozen in front of him, not realizing that I should have been laughing along. Before I could correct my mistake, though, he'd started talking again, faster now that he was nervous. "You can call me Jay like everyone else does. Or Kid. I know it's not a name, but that's what Embry calls me. Dad, too, sometimes. Or…Junior, or…JB…I don't know. Whatever makes it easier."

"Which do you like best?" I murmured. My voice shook, embarrassing me. It was stupid of me to have been afraid to talk to my own son. Even if I wasn't sure how he came about…and I didn't remember him…and he looked and sounded like he was ten years older than me. It was still ridiculous. I gave _birth_ to the kid, for crying out loud.

I gasped in disgust, making a face at the picture the thought had conjured, my entire body quivering as I shuddered from head to toe. Little Jake blinked at me, his eyes narrowing under the furrowed brow. I knew he must have been thinking I was crazy.

"Uh…I guess I kinda like Kid, actually." He laughed, only this time the sound was not as carefree as it'd been just moments ago. There was a hint of fear in his tone now. "But that's probably dumb. How 'bout just callin' me Jay? Or Junior."

"Or JB?" I joked, chuckling in an effort to calm him. I wanted him to feel comfortable around me. I planned on sticking around. "Come on, _Kid, _pick a name."

He grinned at me, his lips stretching far across his face and exposing a thick line of pearly whites. He had a smile just like Jacob's. It was so beautiful and innocent that I nearly attacked him with a joyous hug, but instead I gaped at him for a second before pulling myself together.

My son was so _pretty_. It was astonishing.

"Junior, I guess. But I really don't care."

"Kay. Junior it is."

We smiled at each other for a long moment, the silence not as uncomfortable as I'd imagined it would be. I was finding Junior to be very easy to be around, much like Jacob had been in the beginning—much like Jacob would _always_ be.

I was glad to know that my kid had gained so much of his father's good spirits. He, too, was like the sun. A little one—in comparison only to Jacob; compared to anyone else he would be considered huge—but still bright and magnificent and warm. His smile comforted me and made me feel safe, the way his eyes danced was alive and free. It made me so happy to see that they were happy, that my son was happy. And so _pretty!_

I didn't think I was going to get over that.

"I'm so sorry." He whispered suddenly. His voice was so full of guilt and misery that my eyes widened and I gasped a little bit. The change in the atmosphere startled me into stillness. I knew that he was sorry about trying to pursue me that first time we'd met. But he was right. Like he'd said before, he didn't know who I was at the time. For all that he knew, his mother was dead. I wondered briefly why he wouldn't have recognized me, but quickly understood that, too. He couldn't have remembered precisely what I looked like. He must have been young when I passed away.

"Wait." I cut him off as he opened his mouth, staggered by the path my thoughts had taken. If he was young when I'd passed away, then… "How old are you?"

He grinned sheepishly, but there was an edge to the way he held his jaw. It was almost smug. "Well, physically I'm probably like twenty something, but I'm technically fifteen."

Fifteen years.

"So you're fifteen?"

Had only fifteen years passed since I died?

My eyebrows furrowed as I tried to think it through. If only fifteen years had passed, people that I knew would probably still be alive. I'd died at eighteen, so that meant that I'd now—if I'd never been shot—be thirty-three years old, as would Angela and Ben and Jessica and Mike…and Charlie would still be alive. Charlie.

My breathing accelerated.

"_Technically…"_ He drawled, extended the "e" sound. His smirk was definitely haughty now, tugged up on one side of his face. His arms crossed over his broad chest, foot tapping against the ground with a clapping sound.

"What does that mean?"

"Well, I'm only _technically _fifteen. Realistically, I'm like…two-hundred something."

My jaw dropped.

"_WHAT?!" _

Junior jumped as I screamed the word in incredulity, shrinking back in his skin. In my peripheral vision, I saw Jacob stand up from the piece of driftwood, leaning forward, ready to spring over here and protect me. I watched him, trying hard to breathe evenly. My body was rocking violently with the force of my hyperventilation. My hands shook.

"I'm sorry!" Junior sputtered fearfully. "I'm so, so, so, so sorry! I should never have said anything. I'm so dumb! I didn't know that you hadn't talked to Dad about it yet!" He paced in front of me, smacking his palm to his forehead. "So stupid!" He muttered to himself.

Jacob was walking slowly over to us, slower than even I walked. He looked like a policeman, afraid to act too quickly just in case it scared the lunatic he was trying to corner. His brow was creased with worry. I could hardly hear over my breathing.

"I'm gonna go." Junior announced, voice cracking like a little boy. I couldn't even blink. "I'm so sorry… Oh! And…I'm sorry for killing you. Really, that's what I've been meaning to say the whole time. I didn't mean it, and I'm sorry. Very sorry, really."

I stared at him. Killing me?

Suddenly Jacob was right beside me, grabbing at my forearms and pulling me into his chest. My breath was so shallow and fast I thought maybe I was dying again. Maybe that was why Jacob's hands were too tightly wrapped around me, his eyes big and intense on my face. He was terrified he'd lose me again.

Is this what Junior meant by saying he'd killed me?

"You did _not_ kill her, Jay." Jacob growled at his son, snarling fiercely over my head. "We've been over this."

"Oh, _please, _Dad. You seem to forget that I can hear your thoughts when we're wolves. I've been in your head. I know what you think about it." My son's voice was thick with accusations and sharp as the edge of a blade. Jacob winced as it sliced him.

I couldn't even think about the pain the words were causing him. I could hardly think about the words at all. My mind was elsewhere—just beginning to pick up on something that'd been so very obvious the whole entire time.

"My son is a _werewolf?! _A _two-hundred-something-year-old WEREWOLF?!"_

Jacob hushed me, placing his hand over my lips, eyes full of sympathy and regret.

"See! You can't even _deny_ it!" Junior shouted at him, stabbing a finger into his chest. Jacob growled back, throwing me to the side—out of the way of all the anger. I couldn't understand the meaning behind their words. None of it made sense to me.

My son was a werewolf. A freaking _werewolf!_

"Go home, Jacob." My Jacob ordered, sounding more like a Dad than I'd ever imagined he could. I stared at them, my eyes flickering back and forth like I was watching a swinging pendulum. The air was full of violent fury, and it'd started raining fiercely, the world seemingly trying to keep up with the emotions piercing its sky.

My breath had slowed down to nothing. I couldn't breathe anymore. I was shocked into a stunned silence by the shouting match. Who would win: father or son?

I saw briefly the memory of Jacob and Paul fighting—the only time I'd ever seen something like that. It had been terrifying, nightmare provoking. I didn't want to see that again. Jacob and Junior wouldn't…would they?

I gasped, gripping Jacob's arm.

"_You _go home Dad. I know how you feel—even when you try to hide it. You're pissed at me for killing her, aren't you? _Aren't you?! _Just admit it!"

"_Jacob Samuel Black!_ Go the _hell_ home before I have Embry come and _drag_ your ass there!" Jacob was really snarling now, his voice livid, face purple, but somehow, he seemed composed. It made him much more threatening. I shivered.

"Fine. But you know what, _Dad," _Junior paused, sneering the word, his white teeth glimmering in the light of the newly risen moon. Both men were shaking visibly—terrifyingly. I clung to Jacob's arm. "You're a _chicken_. Nothing but a chicken who can't even admit to _himself_ that he hates his son. Because it's true. I killed her. And you hate me for it." And then he took off toward the house like a bolt of infuriated lightning, pulling my splitting heart along with him. I had no idea what they were arguing about, but for some strange reason, I felt bad for the boy. His words had been angry and seemingly cruel, but I thought I'd seen a touch of pain beneath all the rage. I wanted—oddly—to go after him and pull him into my arms, rock him like a baby.

But if I tried that, he'd probably crush me.

"Why does he keep saying that?" I managed to whisper after a couple of minutes. Jacob and I were both breathing heavily now, my breath quickening in anxiety, Jacob's in anger. He gritted his teeth as I spoke to him. "What does he have to do with my being shot?"

Jake's breathing cut off suddenly, seeming to remember something, and he stepped in front of me again, staring at me like I'd spoken some foreign language. I shifted my eyes so I was looking at his arms, feeling awkward with him staring at me like that. He was watching me like I'd just announced I was a mermaid or something…though that probably wasn't the best comparison. For all that I knew, mermaids _could_ have existed.

My own son was a werewolf.

"What did you say?" Jacob whispered.

"I asked why he kept saying—"

"No, not that. Something about being shot? You said something like that earlier, too." He waited for me to realize what he was talking about, staring at me with that same weird expression.

"Oh. What does Junior have to do with my being shot?"

I watched him as his eyebrows furrowed, as his face tilted to the side and inched closer to me. His eyes were full of wonder and confusion. My face felt red hot. I inhaled deeply to calm myself.

"When were you shot, Bella?"

"When I _died_…?" My tone implied just how stupid I thought his question was. I raised my eyebrows as I spoke, trailing off at the end sarcastically. Jacob only blinked at me. I felt kind of dizzy, the edges of my vision getting fuzzy like a television screen fading out.

"Bells…" He started, sounding far away, pulling me against him slowly. He looked a little dazed—a lot like I felt. "Bells, what's the last thing you remember?"

"Being shot. Dying."

He shook his head at me. "Bella. I don't know how to tell you this, but…"

"But what?" I whispered, impatient. I could barely see him. My eyes were fogging up with darkness, unable to focus on anything. My knees felt weak beneath my weight, my legs bowing awkwardly. I would've fallen if Jake hadn't been holding onto me so tightly. I could feel something about to happen, something that would turn everything I'd ever known into something of fantasy. I didn't want to hear it. I felt so disoriented.

"Bella, honey…that isn't how you died."

My mouth fell open and my legs gave out.

So much for one normal day.


	28. Charmed

**(Disclaimer- i own a bat cave.)**

_hola! okay, so i know its been a long while since i've updated. i'm sorry about that.  
i've had homework and school crap to deal with. :) but here you are, and its pretty long.  
not as long as the last chapter, but I'm hoping its a bit more exciting.  
theres a whole bunch that goes on in this one. and i do mean a whole bunch.  
theres a lot to swallow here, and you're likely to forget what happened in the beginning of the chapter  
by the time you get to the end. but anyway, heres the chapter. and my chapters will probably  
be coming a little slower (not slower than THIS chapter came, just slower than is normal for me)  
because of school and stuff. so. please be patient. and thank you for reading.  
leave reviews so i can know what you think of it! :D you're bound to have some kind of guesses or  
something after you read this chapter. its a bit of a cliff hanger. so leave me something interesting  
in your reviews, people! :D_

Charmed

It wasn't so hard to find as I'd imagined it might have been. After roughly two hundred years, I'd have expected a place like this—one that had been so very difficult to find to begin with even after only less than a year of being away from it—to be rather tricky to stumble upon. But now here I was, standing in the opening of trees, staring out over a land that was far too symmetrical to truly be nature-made, way too beautiful to have been seen clearly in dreams.

I wobbled lazily into the meadow with curious eyes. The lighting here was dimmer than it'd been that time with Edward, but somehow still managed to glow in the veiled sunlight. Clouds drifted in the dark gray sky, signaling rain, and cast shadows over the wilting flowers that took place there. The land was so round, a personal little bubble that would make escaping reality a breeze for anyone other than me.

But when I was the one now needing a getaway, there was no chance of it. Not even one little glimmer of peace would shine over my head, trap me in its magic. Reality weighed down on me like the mass of the population wanted a piggyback ride and I'd had no choice but to accept. It was strange to think of all of those years of my life that I'd hidden away in my dreams, unable to keep my mind from wandering into fantasy, stuffing my faith into something—someone—I wasn't sure existed. Strange to think how abruptly the situation had been reversed, how I could no longer force myself to bury the impact of what was real, rather than what was fiction.

I'd never before been as aware of truth as I was today.

I'd been trying so hard to shut my mind down, to let the fires of newly acquired knowledge burn out, but it just wasn't working. The words from the night before just continued still to press into my mind, breaking down any futile barriers I'd put up in an effort to keep them out. I guess the madness it was causing me was easily seen on my face, otherwise I couldn't be sure if Jake would've let me leave the house this morning. He must have been able to see how much I needed to go, like I'd seen how much my need for departure had hurt him.

I sighed now, letting my tired legs rest as I sunk to the ground. The grass was damp, droplets of moisture furrowing into the jeans Kyle had bought me, but I ignored it. It might have been an idea to have concentrated on that dampening of my clothes, in actuality, to think only of the here and now, how the meadow looked and felt, but I knew that trying to do so would prove pointless in the end. I'd lived long enough to have learned how my mind worked, and to know that there was no focusing on anything but the one thing I didn't want to think of at all. And, more importantly, I was starting to feel the wrath of a headache for trying so hard to bar out the thoughts. Instead of letting them continue to bash about in my skull, I needed to let them free—as much as I hated the idea of doing such a thing.

So I released my hold on the words I'd chained, and winced when they whipped out in reckless abundance.

It'd been roughly two hundred years since my first and only death, give or take a few years. I'd not died by the blow of a fortuitous bullet, but instead by a rare complication during childbirth. I'd been pregnant with Junior at the time of my death, or just about to be relieved of that pregnancy, anyway. Jacob had told me, with tears that held the stamina of an Olympic runner, of the choice he'd been given just moments before my life's departure.

With my hand in his just last night, he whispered to me the words that the nurse had said to him, the words that had haunted him ever since, creating an image in my head, rather than a memory. I couldn't seem to remember any of it happening, not one word he uttered rang a bell, but still I could see it clearly in my head as though his words were not words at all, but the film to a movie, sliding over a projector.

And here, barely aware of the moisture devouring the underside of my jeans, I dove into that movie, becoming one with the pictures in my head. Before I could so much as blink, I was standing in the pale light of a hospital, floating beside a tormented Jacob, unable to be seen or heard. In this movie, I was merely a ghost.

_The nurse behind the glass of the door nods solemnly at the doctor she speaks to, eyes gray with remorse. Those vessels of sight spin around to glimpse at Jacob where he sits in the room, holding a hand that is white as milk. An uneven thumping sounds from a machine, high-pitched and slowing, slowing. My heartbeat._

_She steps past the now opened door, signaling for Jacob to follow her out into the hall. He looks at me, laying there almost a corpse, unwilling to leave my side._

_"We don't have much time." She murmurs softly._

There is a skip and a bright flash. I'm in the hallway now.

_Jacob is crying softly. She hasn't spoken yet, but his eyes are sad and knowing, and he is smart to make the connection between her eyes and her actions. He is swaying just a little bit, placing a large red hand against the perfectly bleached wall. His lips tremble._

_"Sir." She glances at her chart. "Jacob."_

_"No." He sobs before she can tell him. He already knows._

_"I'm so sorry, Jacob." She is, he can see it in her eyes as they fill. "We're trying everything we can do, I promise we won't give up without a fight. But the risk is too large, and the chances too slim. If we can manage, the _best_ we can manage is to save only one of them. I'm so, so sorry." She shakes her head. They're crying together. She places her hand on his forearm. "I have to ask you. If we continue with the birthing procedure, we may be able to save the child."_

_"But she dies." He knows. His eyes close and tears mark his cheeks. He's so close to losing himself._

_"I'm sorry." That confirms it. "If we stop, if we work on her instead, the chances of the child being saved are little to none." Her gray eyes slip to the floor and she shakes her head._

_"You want me to choose between them."_

_"Time is running out." Another confirmation. Jacob cries._

One more bright flash envelopes me, and then it is gone.

I wiped at my cheeks, ridding the tears from my face, happy to be back in the present, away from the sadness. The meadow seemed bigger now, somehow stretched, and I imagined it was done so to fit my grief. I could only begin to imagine how Jacob had felt, and though I tried to keep it out, I'd managed to place myself in his position.

Who would I have chosen, if it had been him instead of me? New life, or everlasting love?

I'd want to save Jacob, of course. I couldn't see life continuing without him. But to think of the life, the small, helpless life that had yet to begin, to think of ending it…It was horrible. I was a monster in having that child ended due to my own self-interest. I just couldn't kill Jacob. Either way it was murder, and I couldn't kill Jacob.

I'd known then, when he was telling me, that he'd chosen the baby. It was the smart, noble decision. That child had so much left to experience, so much life ahead of it, while I'd been given much more than anyone could ask for. I'd been given love, Jacob, a caring father, faithful friends. That baby hadn't even seen the light of day. Why shouldn't he have chosen the baby?

I was selfish enough to have been upset by the idea, though, to have thought that Jacob would send away our love, and my life, for something—_someone, _a part of him—that he had yet to know. I was selfish enough to feel that sting of jealousy, that ache of foolish rejection.

But I'd been wrong. Jacob hadn't chosen the baby. He'd chosen me.

He'd barely had to think, though there was guilt in the pit of his soul for ending the life of a child, of his child, _our_ child. He'd chosen me, he'd begged for the nurse to save me, to keep me alive. He couldn't have lived without me, didn't want to. There were other chances, he'd thought, for us to have a baby. That child could never have been replaced, but neither could I have been. He'd wanted me, needed me. And he'd chosen that I live.

But it'd been too late.

Though his decision was quick, and he'd meant it wholeheartedly, I'd died. Just as they'd walked back into my room, my hospital room, the machine monitoring my heartbeat had silenced. Jacob had chosen that I live, and I'd died anyway. I'd died just moments after he chose me, just as he was trying to balance his joy and misery.

I'd died right there in front of his eyes, and he could do nothing about it.

He was left with the child he'd given up for me, and the life, my life, the one he'd chosen to keep, had been ended.

If that had been me, in his position…I wouldn't have been able to take it. I would have gone insane. To think that Jacob would die, when I was so sure that he would live, when I'd been promised he would…it was horrible. And Jacob had had to deal with just that. I couldn't even comprehend the pain he'd have felt. Mine was simply a dull echo to what he must have gone through.

First, to go through the pain and the grief of killing a person, to know that you have been ordered to play God, to decide between the lives of the one person in the world that you love more than the rest, and the little piece of you that has yet to live. Then to make that decision, and to have the subtle relief of keeping the one that you love, so that you can face the horror of the situation together in the end…and in the end to have all of it taken from you. To have that awful decision bear down on you and mean nothing at all. To have all of the pain and agony of deciding mean _nothing._

I shook my head. I didn't want to think about it anymore—_couldn't _think about it anymore—so I gifted myself the shy peace of pushing the thought away.

I gathered the strength back into my arms and legs, pushing myself from the wet earth so I was standing in the center of the circle. The wind was fierce, lapping at my hair and flipping it into my face. I struggled to keep my heavy lids open, finding it hard to stay awake after all of the tears, but there was more that I needed to think about, that I needed to release from my mind.

The truth of my death was not the only reason I'd ran from the house.

I didn't know anything anymore. Everything that I knew was questionable, every dream and every memory. The last of my life that I'd remembered was being engaged to Edward, ruffling through magazines, sitting in the kitchen. A phone call from Sam Uley. I'd found out that Jacob had run away, and that Edward had sent him the invitation to our wedding. Then I'd set off to find him, and had been shot in the heart.

After Jacob told me how it was that I really died, I'd not wanted to hear anything more. He'd offered other information, said he would tell me anything I wanted to know, from start to finish, but I'd rejected the knowledge, the vicarious memories. I just shook my head at him and threw myself into the covers of his bed…where I'd asked to be left alone.

I should have asked, though. It was foolish not to have asked, because now I was stuck here in this meadow with nowhere for my thoughts to go but in endless circles. If I had been pregnant with Junior when I'd died, then none of my memory would have proven to be correct, right? Jacob and I would have had to be…closer than I'd thought we were, otherwise I wouldn't have been having his kid.

So where did that leave me and Edward?

Edward.

I sighed.

Edward was another reason I'd left the house this morning, drove away in Jacob's car. The only piece of information I'd been given on my former life was my death. Just that one little scene of hospital. I knew nothing of what happened before it, nothing of what happened after.

So I was worried. Terrified, actually, wondering how much of a relationship I'd had with Edward to begin with. Not only was I afraid of the possibility that we'd not had then what I thought we did, but I was also afraid of the realization of just how attached I was to him. Had we even been in love? I felt love, warmth, longing, when I thought of him, and I did love him now, more than I'd realized, it seemed. But I was beginning to consider whether or not that love was real, or if it had only been forged by false memories.

When I'd gone to his house—or when Emmett had brought me to the Denali Clan's new house, rather—he'd seemed like he loved me. The way that Edward's eyes had met mine had indicated care and affection, pain and loss. He'd even kissed me, and when he'd done so, his lips had held all of the passion that I'd remembered. That might have meant that my memory was correct about him, for the most part, up until the engagement…

I couldn't be sure, though. I had no idea what had happened. I should have asked, but I was a stupid coward.

"Bella-Anna-Riley?"

My head whipped up to see Kyle stroll in through the woods, opposite from where I'd entered before. His chocolate hair whipped around his face in the cold wind, a little longer now that some time had passed, and his icy blue eyes were piercing in the dimming light of the afternoon. He had his hands tucked into the pockets of his light-wash jeans, portraying total ease. A lazy smile pulled up one side of his lips, and his eyebrows rose as I stared at him.

So quick that it left a kind of stinging in my brain, the memory of Laurent battered its way into my head. It'd been so long ago, but I could see it clearly still.

I shuddered, but not from the chill of the air.

"I didn't expect to find you here, exactly, but I'm glad I did." He smiled at me, pausing just short of a foot away. He dragged one hand from his pocket through his brown hair, showing just enough surprise in his voice and eyes to look innocent. But still, I didn't trust it. I kept my jaw shut, my eyes observant on him. I didn't know what I expected him to do, but when he did it, I wanted to be paying attention.

It was stupid to have connected him to Laurent, of course. Laurent was dead, and there was no way that Kyle was a vampire. His skin was pale, indeed, but not that pale, and not that cold. When I'd held his hand, it had been soft and warm, and he'd even tripped. Vampires were cold and hard and graceful. Kyle was none of those things.

But maybe I was wrong about Laurent being dead. After all, my memory had served me with nothing but confusion and mistakes. I'd been wrong about my death, so why not his?

Still. Kyle was no vampire.

He chuckled lightly, stepping closer and extending a hand. The smile on his mouth was sweet and serene, and not at all threatening, but I couldn't help but be afraid. I might have taken his palm in mine—maybe just so he'd have one less hand to grab a knife with—if I hadn't been afraid he'd see me shaking.

"Are you all right?" He asked as his brows lowered in concern. Pivoting suddenly, his hand whipped away from me, facing the way he'd come from. I gasped, eyes tightening on his still-empty hand, shocked that there was nothing shiny, metal, and pointed in it. Then I realized that he was searching the woods for something that might have frightened me, and I felt like an idiot.

So it was obvious I was afraid. That gave him the advantage—my fear.

I worked hard to will my face into a calm mask—subtle shock, just like his. When I was sure I had made it as composed as I could manage, I sent him a smooth smile. He grinned back at me, mildly amused with my blatant effort, before grabbing me into a bear hug.

Even as I hugged him back, I was spotlighting every little detail, everything that I felt against me. I felt nothing cold against my back, only the warmth of his arms. There was no weapon there against me yet.

I was being ridiculous.

The second that I realized how foolish I was acting, I cut it out, letting myself snuggle into the hug with Kyle. And then, like a curtain had been suddenly dropped down over us, there was nothing but the calm of him. Nothing left but serenity.

I'd been a wreck before he'd shown up, and even though it'd gotten temporarily worse when I'd seen him, he was here now, comforting me with a gentle embrace. He was a good, strong man, and he had wonderful timing. He always seemed to find me at just the right moment, just when I needed him most.

"I missed you, you know." He whispered against my hair. I smiled easily into his shoulder, secretly delighted by his words. I'd missed him too, oddly enough. It was nice to have a human being who accepted everything about me and didn't ask many questions. He was content with just knowing that I was safe and alive, and it pleased me. I knew that I could talk to him—leaving out the few details that I wasn't allowed to tell—and that, even if he didn't know what I was talking about, he would help me, and he wouldn't ask for more than I gave him. How I could ever have doubted him was beyond me.

"Me too."

He pulled away from me, looking into my face as his hand wrapped around mine. The grin on his lips was just as elated with my words as I'd been with his. His light blue eyes glanced up at the sky, checking the thickness of the clouds as drops of rain began to tumble down and kiss the earth.

"I was antsy, not having heard from you." He admitted, walking with me around the little meadow. "You said you'd be in Forks, and I wanted to go hiking…" Chuckling in embarrassment, he looked at me again. "I didn't think I'd find you here, but I was hoping that maybe I'd have some luck in seeing you. Looks like luck was with me today."

I smiled at him, charmed by his undemanding presence, thankful to have been given this distraction. I didn't know how long I would've lasted without breaking down if he hadn't come here. The thoughts had been eating me alive, picking at my brain before, and I couldn't seem to make them go away. But he was here now, and somehow, the shouting in my head had been calmed to muffled whispers. He was like some kind of morphine to my agony, the infinite stampede of terrorizing thoughts. Just having him near seemed to put me in a trance, one that was very much welcomed by my restless soul.

"Nice place, this." He nodded at our surroundings, smiling that laid-back smile of his. He seemed a little drowsy, completely at peace there in the field with me, his lids drooping indolently. We continued to pace comfortably in the grassy sphere, and it felt to me, in my hazy state, almost like we were floating a foot off the ground. "You come here often?"

"No." My voice was barely a whisper, the tone hinting at the smile on my mouth. It was all so serene, eerily serene. I couldn't get myself to keep the sides of my lips from rising slightly. He looked at me, and I couldn't help but think his eyes seemed a little smug.

"Did you find what you were looking for, lovely?" His finger grazed my cheek, and I felt heat rise there, but not in a flush of color as it normally would. Now the blush took its time, sluggishly pulling blood up into my face. The fingers of my free hand grabbed weakly at the collar of his shirt to keep me steady. I was on the verge of a too-peaceful sleep.

"Mmm." I sighed in response, lids dropping down. It took effort to lift them again, but I managed it somehow, and met his eyes with mine. They were so blue, so icy cold blue, like glaciers floating dreamily on the arctic.

His lips were warm, lukewarm, when they touched against my lips. It was like kissing Edward, in a way, to kiss Kyle. Edward had been able to make me forget, to toy with my mind, my thought-process, and Kyle, somehow, was able to do the same. He had the same affect as alcohol, or heavy medication, some kind of drug. I felt high, lifted above myself, extended in the air with his arms wrapped around me.

Like he'd snatched my soul right out of my body and was holding it captive with him in the now milky sky.

When he released me, my thoughts sloshed around like lazy puddles in my mind, and it was hard to pick one out from the other. Everything seemed to blur, and the words I wished to speak to him were jumbled in my mind. He chuckled fascinatingly as his eyes swept over my expression, and there was something there in his tone that had my stomach tightening into a knot, churning. I was shaking slightly, but I couldn't focus enough to realize yet what the emotion was that had me behaving that way.

He looked satisfied, haughty, when his lips pulled to the left, blinking at me. It was obvious that I was under his spell. He could see it, and so could I. I struggled to pull some kind of comprehension back, and found it to be as hard as trying to make my way up a slippery cliff of pure ice.

Eventually, thankfully, I found the power in me to mumble just six words.

"They'll probably be looking for me." I mumbled, a little disjointedly. But even though the sentence came out jumbled and slurred, it was enough.

Kyle's snowy blue eyes became quickly careful as he scanned my face, and he stiffened against me, not as relaxed as before. I felt the pull of calm slowly evaporating from around us, and the relief that came with it was more than I could explain. But I was still too deeply submerged to make sense of the stirring inside of me.

"I guess I'd better go then." He said evenly, slowly.

In a possessive and almost showy action, he leaned in for a quick kiss, a large, accomplished grin pulling over his face as he let himself fall away from me. And then he turned and walked back the way he'd come from.

The second he disappeared behind the trees, I felt my feet slam back into the ground, and my brain back in my head. My breath was nearing hyperventilation, and the seed of sensation in my stomach was no longer muddled, but strong and heaving: fear. The panic that he'd numbed rose like tidal waves all throughout me, and I collapsed on the ground in the budding terror.

Kyle was not a vampire, but he didn't seem human either anymore.

There was something wrong here. Entirely, horribly, wrong, and I had no idea what it was.


	29. Dancing with Wolves

**(Disclaimer-I've no ownage.)**

_Could you imagine if bella was reincarnated as a GUY? that would be funny as hell! so i created another fanfiction.  
yeah, you guessed it, bella is reborn as a DUDE in my new story MAN-BELLA! you should definitely go read it.  
its not exactly a one-shot, because theres more than just one chapter, but its pretty amusing. GO READ IT!  
SERIOUSLY! but first, read this.  
so this also took a while to be put up. i'm sorry about that. it seems i'll be adding chapters  
every weekend, rather than during the weekdays. sorry about that. i'll try to squeeze chapters in during  
the week if i can, but i have a lot of homework. so yeah, it kind of sucks that i only received two reviews for  
the last one. i don't know whether you guys just have a lot of stuff to do now that summer is done for, or  
if you just thought the whole kyle thing was kind of lame. i'd still like to know what you think of it, and i hope  
that you all didn't just completely lose interest in this. the kyle-situation may sound a little dumb, but i can  
assure it isn't as ridiculous as it sounds. so please keep reading. and heres another chapter.  
its longer, but if you DON'T like how long my chapters have been, PLEASE tell me, and i'll shorten them up  
a bit. anyway. please leave reviews, and enjoy.  
_

Dancing with Wolves

The auburn wolf carried me back onto the road—where I'd all but crashed his car in my reckless hurry—in his human form. He kept his black eyes linked with mine, and I could see the trillions of questions waiting for me just beyond them, in the depthless seas of his mind. I knew he wouldn't ask nonetheless, and it made me as happy as possible in my current, sad situation that I didn't have to warn him I wasn't in the mood for talking. He could just tell that conversing wasn't on my agenda for the moment, and he bequeathed me the silence I was looking for.

Not one word had been spoken since he'd found me in the middle of the circled field, bent over myself like a weeping child who'd just lost her dog. He'd just pawed off into the woods again, dragging his pants behind him. When he came back, he'd simply lifted me off the ground like a cotton-ball and cradled me all the way through the woods, letting me continue to sob for the puppy I couldn't find.

But I wasn't a child, and I shouldn't have been crying, and I hadn't lost my dog. In all the absurd honesty of the world, my dog had lost _me_.

And found me again in the fetal position.

I liked the feel of Jacob's warm arms spread around me like a heated coat. That's what he felt like to me, warm and cozy, midnight fire. His eyes were dark as coals, his flesh hot as flame. He was like a walking, breathing hearth—or at the very least, a char-grill. Or, if we were to substitute his eyes for dark chocolate, his toothy grin—which he didn't seem to be willing to show at the moment—could stand in for the marshmallow, and then we'd have ourselves a Smore—though his skin didn't really resemble that of a graham cracker. We'd make do, however.

I kept on like this, thinking of all the possible things I could make him out to be, as he dragged me onto the passenger seat of the car and belted me. It was better to think foolish, childish thoughts than to focus on what had just happened. Jacob didn't need to see me melting down again.

Melting. Melting like the tense atmosphere when Kyle held me. Melting like the calm when he went away. What was it that had me so clouded when he was near?

I shook my head at the thought, trying not to focus on it. I'd already done my share of loosening grips on thoughts I didn't want to think about today. This I would store away in the cobwebbed corner of my head, snap it away in the file labeled _Next Time._ There was no way I would bring myself to come to terms with it now.

_It_. Because that was what Kyle suddenly was. An It. What was he?

It was almost humorous—in a dark way—that my mind seemed to find loop-holes in each one of my non-related thoughts and bring them back to Kyle. It'd always done that to me, for as long as I could remember—which may or may not have been two hundred years. That muscle in my head was a tricky one, always digging up what I tried to bury, shoving it in my face like a despised surprise birthday cake for my very last birthday. It'd be nice for once to just be able to blow out the candles and walk away from it, but such things were impossible.

As were humans being able to have that kind of affect on someone.

What in the hell _was_ he?!

"Bells?" Jacob's voice snapped me like a twig, right out of my spinning thoughts. We were parked on the side of the road still, the key sitting awkwardly in his hand. A great deal of effort was obviously put into keeping his face straight, voice even, but I could tell by the way he kept averting his eyes that he was mad with worry.

"Jake?" I replied, voice just as cool. His mouth slid a bit to the right, but the gesture never touched his eyes. Nothing did, they were smooth and empty as glass. I panicked, trying not to consider that he might be taking me back to the mental hospital. As much as I tried, though, I also failed horribly. I was sure Edward had told Jake everything he knew about my new life. Maybe that'd been a mistake, telling Edward about my new life in the first place.

"You okay enough to talk about it?"

"No."

"Well, that sucks." He grinned without humor, probably just to ease whatever anger he feared the words would cause me. "Look, I know it sucks, finding out you're wrong about stuff. I don't want you to think you've gotta sit out here alone, though. I might not get it totally, 'cuz I've never died before, but you can still tell me things. I'm waiting on a description of those dreams still, too, you know." He nudged my hand gently with his, trying to stir a reaction. I met his eyes.

"You think I'm upset about my memory." I watched him carefully as he nodded, a little perplexed. My head was swimming like I'd swallowed down two whole containers of Nyquil. My voice was as flat as the line on the heart monitor that'd signaled my death.

"Aren't you?"

"Didn't you smell him?" My eyebrows twitched over my eyes, joining. I felt my pulse quicken while Jake jerked his eyes around from left to right, surveying the area around the car. The fresh coating of panic in my voice had alarmed him, and he was looking for the source of my fear.

He should have smelled him. He must have smelled him. He'd pranced over in his fur-coat only three minutes after Kyle's retreat. Jacob—being a wolf—had a great sense of smell, one that could sniff things out from a mile away. He would have smelled him.

"Who? Smell _who_, Bella?" His panic matched mine—_was_ mine. It seemed my moods were rubbing off on him a lot lately.

I made myself breathe. I didn't want to get him worked up for no reason. Maybe he'd smelled Kyle after all, and had thought him only a hiker with no connection at all to me. There was no need for him to remember such a thing, not if he'd thought the scent just a trivial passerby on a trail. No need to worry.

But there was still a thick line of distress in my throat that caked all my words.

"Did you smell anyone? Anyone at all. A hunter, a hiker…anything?" My desperate words were met only with confusion and a shake of his head. He peered out into the distance as I began to hyperventilate, his fingers clutching mine.

"What? What is it, Bells? Who?"

"Him. _Him_…Kyle." I finally managed to get out the name, and felt a little sliding unease roll down the length of my spine. I could still taste that bittersweet serenity on my tongue—the taste of him. It made my heart hop in my chest—terrified little leaps that only made breathing evenly so much more difficult.

"Who is Kyle?"

"The guy that drove me here."

"I thought you drove yourself? Wait. Someone else was driving my car?"

I sighed heavily, pinching at the bridge of my nose to calm myself. There was too much confusion, too much that I hadn't told him yet. He needed to know the story, though I wasn't ready to be the storyteller now. I bit at my lip, irritated.

"No. I'm talking about when I came here to Washington."

Jake sent me a long, quiet look. I knew that he was trying to see if I'd allow him the information he wanted, or if it would just be better to keep his mouth shut.

"Oh." He said.

I took a swig of air, trying to call upon the last bit of courage my tired body held so I could tell him. He watched me as I did this, turning slightly in his seat like a little boy waiting for his bedtime story. The urge to run for it came over me like an electric shock to every one of my muscles, and I tensed, readying myself for escape.

But I couldn't run away from Jacob. Why would I want to?

I didn't understand what was happening to me, why I was always so nervous and distrusting. Ever since my Houdini act at the hospital, I'd been running from everything. It was like flight was my only reaction now—to every single thing in the world.

I was getting to be like Victoria.

I shuddered, locking the door to the car so I couldn't get out. Then I turned to him, and I told him everything from start to finish. Even the dreams.

--

"You came back to me." Jacob gloated when I'd finished my tale. The smile I'd wanted earlier was big and pronounced on his pretty lips, a twinkle furrowing its way into the black of his eyes. He was pleased to know that in my dream it had been him I'd turned to, him I'd chosen. He also thought my portrayal of losing the baby—and him—was my memory trying to remind me of them, of the end of my life. But neither of us could figure out why I'd thought I was shot—or the battle with Tanya and Irina.

"I didn't know if you'd still want me when you came back." He said suddenly. I flipped my eyes back in his direction, startled out of my musing, at the tone of his voice. It was casual and calm, slightly teasing, but I could hear the seriousness behind it. "But I guess it's cool, though, that you did—in your dream, anyway."

I blinked, seeing where he was headed with this.

"Not only my dream, but reality, too."

"You told me you're not sure what reality is anymore."

I shook my head. "No. I don't know what happened in the past, I'm confused what my reality _was._ But I know what it is." I held our tangled fingers up in front of him, giving his palm a gentle squeeze for emphasis. "_This_ is real. These feelings…they're real. I've dreamt of you for as long as I can remember, Jake—"

"Not just me. Batboy, too."

"Batboy?"

"Bat, like a vampire turns into a bat. I've taken to calling him that."

"Well then, yes. And even Billy and Charlie and Alice. But you're the one I wanted most. You're the reason I broke out of that…_horrible_ place. I needed to find _you. _So don't even start this with me. If I didn't want you, I wouldn't be here."

"Yeah, well, two out of the three you mentioned are dead now. So I guess it's only me, Edward, and Alice now, isn't it?" The edge of his voice was cold when he said the words, and I tried to remind myself not to let them sink in too deep. He was hurt, that was it. He missed his father, and he didn't believe me. I knew that I still cared for Edward, and so did he. But I'd not made it so obvious as for Jake to be worried.

He swallowed hard, pulling his fingers from mine and staring at the steering wheel. "That was uncalled for." He murmured, anger draining from his voice. His eyes were narrowed, aimed on the hand he placed against the horn. "Sorry." He said to it. I just shook my head.

"I get why you said it. You miss him. There's no need to be sorry."

"No need to be sorry?" His head rocked back as he pivoted in his seat to face me. The earlier fury was back in his voice and more forceful than ever. Clamping his teeth shut, he breathed deeply through his nose. His eyes were so filled with rage I was surprised they didn't turn red.

As if hearing my thoughts, Jacob looked away from me, hiding his face. He seemed to think better of it, though, because he abruptly faced me once again. His eyes held mine with a searching determination, his shaking fingers the only sign of his previous temper. I braced for whatever was coming—and there surely _was_ something coming. I could see it in his face.

"What is it, Jacob?" I whispered.

"You talk about him when you're sleeping." The way he said it made it sound so innocent, like any normal topic of conversation—casual, nonchalant, almost matter-of-fact. It sounded nothing like an accusation, but somehow it managed to morph into something condemning when I played it back in my head.

I stared at him, horrified and filled with regret. What had he heard? My breath failed to find me, and my hand shook over his. I couldn't understand how it even got there. The warmth of his skin was blown away by the icy fist gripping my stomach.

"You say things like you love him, you miss him. Can't live without him. You said that only once, though. Just one time. So it's probably nothing." He shook his head fractionally, both of us hearing the persuasive tone in his voice. He was trying hard to convince himself he was right, that it was nothing. His eyes still held mine, watching me. They were blank and cool, dead.

Something stuck in my throat.

"Last night, I came into the room when you were sleeping. I was trying to pretend it was back the way it used to be, back when you would sleep in my bed. Tried to forget you'd died, that anything had changed. The pain stays with me, though. This little twisted knife stuck all in my chest. Then I see you dying there on the hospital bed, hear the line go flat just when I walk in to save you." He snorted once without humor. I sat in silence.

"And so I freaked. I grabbed you outta the bed and held you on the floor with me last night. Just sat there watching you, keeping you warm. Every time I see your face now, I see that dead-white one that stared up at me, lifeless in that hospital. When you died, I wasn't there. I wasn't holding your hand; I wasn't telling you I loved you. I was out in the hall pitying myself. I wasted time. Now I can't stand to think of wasting a second without you."

His hand fell away from underneath mine.

"But you want him. You want Edward, don't you?"

"No." The whisper made no sound, but he saw it on my lips.

A bitter grin twisted his mouth, a show of sarcasm, and he snorted again. "When I held you in my arms, I kissed your hand. You were so pretty, lying there sleeping. Then you said his name. I touched you, and you said his name. Not mine. His. Edward. You said '_I love you Edward. More than anything.'_"

My lip quivered and my eyes stung. I leaned in toward him, and he leaned away. My chest rose and fell awkwardly, bowing me with the severity of my pain. Jacob, poor Jacob. I'd never meant to hurt him. This _always_ happened. I always hurt him. It was so stupid and obnoxious and tedious. I hated it, yet it seemed so very inevitable, like it was my very duty on this earth to bring him misery. I didn't want to be the one to hurt him like that. I didn't want to be stuck in an everlasting replay of a game called Kill-Jake.

"No, no." My voice was thick with tears. The words were almost completely incomprehensible. His eyes tightened. "No, not more than anything. Not more than you. Please." I reached for him again, hooking my hand around his arm, trying to pull him to me. His fingers ripped mine away from him and he tossed my arm back, flinging open the car door.

"You're still mine." He said angrily, pacing in a small circle. He sounded mad, but his eyes were packed with hurt. "You're mine. You married me, and you're mine. I have your ring still." Jacob's voice shook as he stood by the car door, looking in at me. There was so much vulnerability on his face, so much agony that I couldn't even think of being irritated by his claim. He didn't think of me as property. I knew him well enough to understand that. He was trying to tell himself he wouldn't lose me again.

"I'm yours." I repeated, nodding. "I love you. Jacob, you're mine, and I love you."

He sat back down in the car, sucked dry of his anger, looking weary and weathered. I could see the years beginning to take place in his eyes, see wisdom and centuries of heartache in the deep brown of them. I dropped my face into his side, exhausted as he was.

But I wouldn't sleep. Not until I knew I wouldn't hurt him with my unconscious babble. How would I be able to tell, though, when the words would be spared from my mouth in the middle of the night? Already now I felt whole with Jacob, felt _everything_ for Jacob. He was the one I wanted. So why was I dreaming of Edward?

I sighed, pressed my hand into the fire of his forearm and waited for him to speak. He simply pulled me closer to him, wrapping both of his arms around my waist and tugging me into his lap and over onto the backseat. Wiping quietly at my eyes, I thought of what he'd said about me being his wife. Obviously something must've been done to have led to our marriage. But what could've possibly happened? How could I have so quickly gone from engaged to Edward to married to Jake?

"Sorry, Bells." Jacob muttered above my head. His chin moved against my hair with the motion of his words, his fingers drawing soothing lines down my cheek.

"Me, too. I don't know why I said that last night. I really do—"

"Love him, too. I get that you love me. But you love him, too."

I sighed into his chest, rolling my eyes. It felt like I'd been through this conversation a thousand times with him, though I knew that this was the first time in over two hundred years. It was difficult to be patient, though. I knew that he would forever be the one I wanted, but he had to believe it for himself. Frustration was unavoidable, seeing as I'd just gotten him to believe that I loved him in my dream. It was a long and monotonous—not to mention hurtful—process just to get Dream-Jake to trust that I wasn't going anywhere. Now here I was having to get Real-Jake to believe me all over again, right back at square one, smack-dab in the middle of reality.

This was one part of my dream I didn't want to have to live through a second time. The rest I could deal with—even the death and the battle with the vampire sisters. I was just utterly tired of hurting Jacob, especially now that there wasn't even really any second-guessing like there was when I was unconscious.

In the dream, I'd not been entirely sure. But I knew better now than to remain sitting on the fence. I had to choose a side. I had to choose Jacob.

"Bells?"

"What?"

"Who is Kyle again?"

I laughed dully, a tired amusement, and sluggishly twisted my face to look at him. I'd forgotten to explain about Kyle when I'd told Jacob my story. Actually, I'd almost forgotten Kyle completely until he brought him up.

A subtle shiver shook me.

"Er, you know how I said I hitchhiked to get here?" I asked. He nodded at me. "Well, Kyle was my ride. He was sweet and warm and not at all vampire-like, but then today…" I trailed off, staring into space, the scenes of my earlier experience with Kyle running around in my head.

"You like this guy." Jacob commented, nodding, watching my expression. My face hardened.

_No! _I groaned internally. Why was it that Jacob always understood everything I'd never even said to him? He knew me so well that it was beginning to be a little dangerous—detrimental for our health. The very last thing I needed was Jacob worrying about me running off with Kyle, too. This was ridiculous.

Mentally, I kicked myself in the face.

Jacob smirked. "Yup." He said smugly, watching me with a sort of half-glum satisfaction. Apparently he'd taken my irritated silence as a confirmation. His dark eyes brightened when they took in my frustration, and he grinned at me, nuzzling my neck with his face. I shrugged him off.

Angry and annoyed, I rolled down into the foot space right in front of the backseat, letting myself just sprawl out and fill the legroom there. He raised one lone black eyebrow at me as I settled in on his feet. "Havin' fun down there?"

"Yup." I said, mocking his smug tone. He grinned widely.

"So continue. He seemed all normal and then today…?"

"I don't know. I mean, at first, there was only paranoia. I knew that something was off the second he stepped into the meadow. I'd never felt so suspicious of him before, so…wary. He'd always been so kind and trustworthy before, completely comfortable to be around. But there was just this thing about him today, something I couldn't pinpoint.

"He walked into the meadow with a smirk on his face, told me he'd hoped to catch a glimpse of me while he was hiking through the area. It sounded convincing, but I didn't trust it. Then when he hugged me, I kind of persuaded myself to remember all the nice things he'd done for me…and I made myself stop being so paranoid.

"And then the entire situation reversed.

"I was no longer suspicious or on edge. I was back to being completely comfortable around him again—only ten thousand times _more_ comfortable. I don't know what happened. It was like some kind of trance where I was trapped inside of this horrible…_calm._ Like he'd stripped me of everything but that serenity. And it felt like we were floating." I paused, glancing at Jacob, and saw the expression on his face.

"No, no. I know it sounds like some corny exaggeration of some weird love thing. But that's not what I meant. It wasn't all sweet and perfect. It was _horribly_ perfect and peaceful, like I couldn't escape it. I could feel the bud of fear in my stomach, and I could tell that something was off, but the thoughts were muddled, like I couldn't access them…couldn't process the danger while he was touching me. And when we…well, we…" I stopped. How could I tell Jake that we'd kissed? How would Jacob respond to that?

I froze on top of Jacob's feet, staring stone-like at his face. I'd just walked myself straight into a self-assembled trap.

"When you what?"

I continued to stare.

"What, Bella? When you what?" He blinked, and then his face went blank with surprise. "Oh. You kissed him." His voice was subdued, careful, and a little bleak. We stared at each other for a moment before anyone said anything. Then he wiggled his foot under my back.

"Bells," He started. I watched him carefully, looking for signs of distress. He hadn't had much of a reaction, and I expected something more. My stomach was in knots trying to process the thoughts not showing on his face. "Bella. Get up." His toe nudged me softly.

"Why?" Where did he want me to go? Was he going to take me back to Houston? To Edward? Were we going to go find Kyle? I worked hard to steady my breath.

"My feet are falling asleep."

"Oh." I sighed in relief, sitting up. Jacob leaned over, grabbing my elbows in both hands, and lifted me onto his lap, wiggling his toes to wake them up. I watched them, wondering how infatuated you had to be with a person before you started thinking their feet were pretty, too. I must have been head-over-heels, because I didn't think they were too gross at all.

I chuckled halfheartedly at my odd thoughts, glancing back up at his face, and gasped, shocked at what I saw there.

Jacob's lips landed on mine with a warm and heady passion, sending me into a state of frenzied-shock. Liquid flame seemed to pour out of his lips as they moved against mine, sending beams of golden sunlight throughout my entire bloodstream. I could feel the fire shoot through me, searing all the way from my lips to my fingers and toes, burning every inch of my flesh, encasing my heart in a red-hot flame.

I was on fire. A scorching, beautiful, russet fire.

When he pulled away from me, my lids slipped closed and I fell back against the car door, breath clinging to my lips rather than leaving them. My eyes wouldn't open all the way. I felt foolish and giddy.

"So. Who's the better kisser, Bells? Me, or that pansy Kyle?"

I grinned sleepily, trying to get my hand to reach for him. He found it struggling, and grabbed a hold of me, dragging me back into his chest. "I'm gunna say Kyle, actually. You're lacking a little in originality."

He snorted, flicking the side of my head. "Jerk. You have no right to say that with the way you fell back grinning over there."

"What?" I objected, looking at him. "I was _not_ smiling."

Chuckling, he threw his head back. "_Yeah_, okay. I wish I'd've had a camera for that one. You're completely infatuated with me, Bells. But don't be embarrassed or anything. It's perfectly understandable." He winked, leaning in to kiss my cheekbone.

"You sure as hell think highly of yourself." I muttered sarcastically, smiling a little. I could feel the fresh blush burning my cheeks, and it embarrassed me. I shook my head at my own foolishness.

"Seems you're pretty into me, too."

"Whatever, idiot. Take me home."

"Home." He beamed. "Nice to have you back, Bells."

And he kissed me again.


	30. Spineless Realizations

**(Disclaimer-i don't own any twilight characters. but i wish i could claim me a little bit of wolf.)**

_alright, again this came later than i wanted it to. i've had this done for a while, but my parents  
wouldn't let me get online to post it. so i'm putting up this chapter AND the next one, seeing as I  
have no idea when i'll be able to get back on. most likely next weekend, unless i manage to get on tomorrow  
and post another new one. but pleeeease don't just skip reviewing this chapter so you can get to the next one.  
i really want to know what you guys guess by the end of this chapter. i'll let you know what i want you to guess  
about at the end of the chapter, instead of now, otherwise i'd give stuff away.  
but PLEASE review this one before going on to the next chapter. thank you! _

Spineless Realizations

One day had passed since the strange incident with Kyle. Not much had been said on the topic of his unknown…ability…and it didn't appear to me like much would ever be said about it again. From what I could tell, Jacob either didn't care or didn't take it seriously. Either option was likely, seeing as nothing had really happened. I tried to view the situation objectively, to see it from Jacob's point of view rather than my own, and saw that I'd probably have had the same lacking reaction. After all, my storytelling talents were fairly crappy, and Jake hadn't been there to feel that overwhelming ease. It'd probably sounded like a bunch of overdramatic nonsense to him, and I supposed that that was understandable.

Knowing that I'd probably never run into Kyle again—at least not without Jacob there, seeing as I didn't plan on being without Jacob at all from that point on—I tried not to think about it much. There was no more to discuss, no answers I could gain from over-explaining it to my wolf boy, and no likely possibility of it ever happening again. So, sitting down at the wooden bench, I pushed it from my head.

"Hey you!" A deep voice called from over by the grill. I glanced up, cocking an eyebrow at the face that was veiled by a thick stream of smoke. "Where did you run off to? Come get your food!"

Slowly, taking my time, I worked my way back over the little strip of sand, crossing the distance between myself and Embry. He waved his tongs at me, grinning so widely that his stark-white teeth should have broken away from the rest of his mouth. He was wearing a chef's apron, one similar to the one Jacob had worn in my dream, and his foot was tapping along to the beat of music. The noise booming from the boom box beside him was loud and obnoxious, but very soothing, also, in a way. I smiled.

"So Jake tells me you've got yourself an odd little friend. Kylie, is it?" Embry pulled out a lopsided grin as he placed a hotdog in my upturned palm. I rolled my eyes, shaking my head as I looked down at the nourishment in my hand. I made a face.

"Kyle, actually."

He smirked, grabbing my other hand and twirling me. I knew that the strange clothing Leah had assembled for me to wear would draw out these kinds of reactions. It was ridiculous, the entire thing, to me. Why Leah would ever have picked out such a horrible outfit was beyond comprehension. The shirt and pants were both somehow too low, and I felt exposed and disgusting. Too much of my abdomen was showing; the shirt was shrunken down to almost the size of a belly-shirt.

I growled in annoyance.

"Shut up." I ordered when he opened his mouth to speak. In reaction, Embry's eyebrows rose, eyes glistening with humor, and his mouth twitched. He dropped my hand, returning to the art of flipping meat around on a grate.

"Just going to say you looked nice." He muttered with a smile on his lips. I shook my head. When I didn't reply with words, Embry sighed, shifting his gaze from the flame to the small surrounding party, obviously looking for someone. I knew who it was before he'd even opened his mouth to ask. "Where's Jacob?"

As if on cue, a small tan object came careening forward, and smacked right into the back of Embry's head.

Before it could crash to the ground, his quick dark hand sprung up to catch it, and he brought it into the light of the fire for identification. The two of us stood staring at it for a second, both of our faces contorted with perplexity, but there was a little grin on my mouth. A quiet laugh fell from my lips as Embry continued to stare at the wadded-up hotdog-bun that'd been used as a missile.

"What the hell?"

"Score!" Jacob snickered playfully, sauntering over from behind his friend to give me a high five. I pressed my lips together to keep from laughing, turning my face into the crook of my arm. Jacob slipped one warm arm around my waist, still chuckling like a little kid in a candy-shop.

"Stupid." Embry grunted, chucking the bread back at Jake. Holding up one hand, the portrait of ease, Jacob blocked the ball mid-air, resembling a character from the Matrix. I snorted, looking smugly back at Embry as though I'd been the one to pull off the move.

After I'd finished my hotdog, I returned to the table Embry'd dragged down from Jake's garage. For a couple of minutes I sat alone, chin resting lightly on my forearms, as Jacob and his friends, the people I knew and loved, danced and talked around a fire—well, except for four. Those I didn't love, because I didn't know them. I thought three of their names were Deana, Caleb, and Grace, but they didn't seem to be any more than acquaintances of Embry's, sent here to liven the party up a bit.

I didn't waste my time getting to know them.

The other stranger was currently sharing a hug with my son, dancing with him. Her name was Jenna, and she was about the size of Alice. She had pale skin and hair so blonde it could have been mistaken for white. Centered perfectly on her porcelain face was a set of sky-blue eyes, a lighter and much more striking shade than even Kyle's. She was absolutely beautiful, and absolutely opposite of Junior.

It was odd, watching them, seeing how the pale girl clashed so strangely with the dark boy. He was much more than a foot over her head, his palm nearly the size of her entire face. And when they looked at each other, even I was moved by the intensity of their moment, and constantly felt the need to look away from them, feeling like an intruder.

What was even _stranger_ was that I hated her. I hated her and distrusted her more than I'd ever hated or distrusted any one person, and the worst part was that she'd done not even one single thing to make me feel that way. She was sweet and polite and charming, but I found myself glaring at her like she was the spawn of Satan.

I knew a large part of that was somehow maternal instinct or whatever—that thing mothers get when they feel threatened. I'd just basically met my child—he was just born for me, still somehow my baby, though the thought made me gag. I didn't want him taken from me so soon, and the look that came into his eyes when he watched her was enough to have the panic rising in my pulse. But another part of my hatred, I was sure, was fear.

I was afraid for her. It made me angry that she would be with him, that she would do that to the two of them, put them both at risk that way. It was obvious to me that of course she wouldn't know what kind of danger she was getting herself into, but it didn't matter. She was still being stupid in my eyes. I couldn't just look past the fact that she didn't understand what would happen if Junior imprinted. I hated her for the possibility.

Because Junior _could_ imprint, and he hadn't imprinted on her. By the way they acted with each other, I could see that this newly-budded relationship was going somewhere, possibly even marriage, and that likelihood almost had me chewing my nails. If Junior imprinted, there would be no stopping the heartbreak that he and Jenna both would undeniably feel. And I doubted that anyone here was really interested in having another Sam/Leah situation.

_No, _I argued with myself. _That isn't fair. _Sam and Leah's relationship was different, because Leah had turned into a werewolf, too. There was no escaping Leah's saddened thoughts for Sam. They had no where to run. They were stuck with each other, able to hear each mournful thought every time they phased into wolves, and unable to so much as even avoid seeing each other. But Jenna was definitely _not_ going to turn into a werewolf, so Junior wouldn't have to hear the pain in her thoughts every day, feel the grief of those thoughts, knowing that'd he'd caused them.

But he would still feel it.

Warm lips planted themselves at the top of my head, causing me to yip like a puppy in an instant of shock and terror. Then Jacob's fingers curled over mine, and I calmed down again as he sat beside me at the table.

"Think there's a chance they'll get serious—like marriage or something?" I asked him, working hard to rid my tone of any anger or anxiety as I pushed my chin in the direction of my son.

Jacob's eyebrows creased, glancing over at the couple. "I hope not." He replied. Then the black orbs flickered back to me, and he cocked an eyebrow. "Why?"

Sighing, I leaned back, resting my head against his broad chest. He nuzzled his face into my hair as I spoke. "Don't you think it'd be weird, having a daughter-in-law who is, well, the same age as _your_…er…" I paused, unsure of what to call myself. We'd discussed the marriage thing last night, and though he insisted that we were still practically wedded, the marriage certificate was more than likely expired. It'd been over two-hundred years, and _normally_, marriages didn't last that long. Because normally, people didn't _live_ that long.

Jacob's excellent fix to this problem, of course, was to get remarried. _Remarried._

I knew it was horrible, but I'd been happy that I couldn't remember marrying him. The idea of marriage in itself was nauseating to me, something I'd never wanted to go through with in all of my life. The fact that I'd gone through with it already was horrible, but it didn't really affect me, seeing as I couldn't remember a single thing that happened. So I'd viewed my amnesia as a case of really, _really _good luck. If I didn't remember it now, but I'd already gotten it done and over with, I figured it'd just be one horrible experience I'd never really be forced to endure. But apparently, I would get no such luck.

"You're not comfortable with the _wife_ terminology yet." He chuckled, rubbing at my shoulder. "'Kay. That's fine. You need time to warm up to it. It took me five years to get you to marry me back then. I can wait this time around, too. As you know, persistency's my expertise. But anyway, weddings aren't so big for me, either. I'd just gotten used to calling you my wife. That's all."

Biting my lip where he couldn't see, I nodded my head, thankful and curious. Again, his words ignited fire beneath the thousands of questions in my head, causing them to spill up to my lips. But the talk of weddings was too dangerous, and I still wasn't ready for the truth. I'd ask him later tonight, I decided, when we were alone.

"Weddings aren't exactly on my list of priorities. Not at least for another ten or twenty years." I sat silently, listening to him chuckle, before adding something else on. "Ours _or_ Junior's."

"You're really that worried?" Jacob took my shoulders in his hands, turning me around to face him. His eyes were warm and serious, with just the teensiest edge of humor, something that would probably always be there. "It's more than the age, isn't it? You're not so worried she'll be the same age as you. Your own son is more than a hundred years older than you, and _that_ doesn't bother you much. What's the real thing, Bells?"

"…The risk." I admitted, sheepishly looking toward my lap.

Jacob asked me something, probably what I meant, but I purposely tuned him out, listening to the shouts of his friends and family in the distance instead. Junior sounded closer than before, and I glanced up quickly, perhaps just biding time so I wouldn't have to continue the conversation with Jake, and saw that I was correct. Junior was on his way over.

"What risk?" Jacob demanded, snapping his fingers to get my attention. This time, the words weren't as easy to ignore. I sighed.

"If he imprints. She'll be hurt. So will he."

Jacob's face went blank with understanding, and he blinked at me. There was more understanding in his expression than went with my words. He understood the similar but distinct fear _behind_ my words, too, comprehended the hidden meaning in them—the emotion I tried to conceal. He saw the tender fright, the delicate piece of my heart that feared for the two of _us_, as well. And I could see, just as he could see, that the conversation was no longer about Junior and Jenna, but about Jacob and me.

I clenched my jaw.

"Hey guys." Junior called, plopping down beside us. Neither I nor Jacob replied to him, still too wrapped up in our wordless conversation.

Jake was reading my face intently, his eyes sad and desperate, sympathetic. I knew he'd see the poorly veiled fear in my expression, the vulnerability. And as I watched, I could see the subtle doubt in his, too. It would be exactly our luck to be reunited here, to be given this simple happiness, just to have it taken away by some kind of mythical love-trick.

I was the first to break eye contact, feeling like a coward, when I pulled my chin down into my chest. When I did so, Jacob stood quietly and crossed the sand to his friends, leaving me to my spinelessness and my curious son.

"What was that all about?"

"Nothing," I said quickly, hoping Junior wouldn't press on the subject. Thankfully, he didn't. Instead, he nodded, seeming to realize that he wouldn't get any more of an answer from me. Maybe he'd try to ask Jacob later on. I supposed that was what kids did when one parent said no—they went to the other one.

"Okay… Well, whaddya think of Jenna?" He let loose a giant grin, flashing me his pearly-white jewels, and stuck a thumb out behind him, gesturing toward the blonde water nymph sitting by the fire. I risked only a short glimpse in that direction, afraid to see Jacob sitting sullenly off by himself. I saw him anyway, though, and sure enough, he _was _sitting off by himself, but he had two hot dogs in his hands. That was a good sign. At least I hadn't upset him enough to strip away his appetite.

When Jacob's gaze met mine from across the beach, I looked away again.

"Pretty," I answered a beat late, hoping Junior didn't notice.

"_Pretty?" _He snorted, scoffing at the word. "She's gorgeous. But that isn't what I meant. What do you think about her and me together?"

I flinched at the question, feeling the sting of the conversation I'd just backed out of with Jacob, but tried to answer him anyway. "I think you like her, and she feels the same for you. Just…be careful. I mean, well, you know…the imprinting and…stuff. I don't want…well, you know." As I struggled with the words, uncomfortable and awkward, I realized something. I was just like Charlie. _Just_ like Charlie. I had the same amount of difficulty speaking to my son as Charlie'd had speaking to me. I guess I'd never given him enough credit before.

When I'd come into Charlie's life, I'd basically been grown-up already. He'd not had much experience parenting me, and hadn't had the time to get comfortable discussing his feelings with me, either. And it was the same for me and Junior. Almost exactly the same. Oddly, it was a little comforting knowing that I wasn't the only parent who had no idea how to behave around her child.

"Don't worry." Junior soothed, placing a hand over mine. It was hard to look at it, the way that his palm was almost double the size of my own. He was so _big_ and adult, so smart and understanding. And here I was calling him a baby and a child. _My _baby, _my_ child.

Though I was getting used to it now, I still made a face.

"Can we change the subject, please?" I requested, staring at the napkin sticking to the table. I could see the patch of yellow where the mustard had soaked through it, causing it to cling to the table even in the gentle breeze. That was what I needed—a little splotch of mustard to keep me stuck here in reality. All the emotions were pushing me dangerously close to the insanity I'd been accused of.

"Sure, sure." He said, looking back over at his lady-love. I grinned to myself, hearing so much of Jacob in his voice and vernacular. What a perfect son I had.

The feeling of adoration completely disappeared with his next words, though.

"Wait. I just have to say one thing. Sorry. I…I know you worry about me. I can tell. But I just want you to know that even though you weren't there for the…well, the first two-hundred-something years of my life," He glanced quickly over his shoulder, making sure none of the humans were around to hear him. "You're still my mother, and I still want to be close with you. So we'll just have to get used to the fact that we're family, that I'm your son and you're my mom. Even if I am older than you by at least one-hundred-eighty years." Junior smirked, poking me in the ribs. I jumped back, grinning as well.

"Not tonight." I reminded him. "Tonight I'm your brother's fiancé."

I'd laughed earlier when Jacob had told me this. Due to the fact that Jake and I both looked the same age as our son, we had to pretend Jacob was Junior's brother when we were around humans. It'd seemed funny at the time, but now it was just maddening.

I shook my head, wondering how I would keep up with all of the lies. "This is really strange, you know." I admitted, sighing.

"Yeah. It's understandable. How do you think I feel, though? I hit on you the first day I met you." He shook his head, shuddering at the memory while I laughed at his shame. "At least my mom is pretty." He chuckled.

"Er, thanks."

"Are we still on for tomorrow?" He asked, cocking his head to the left, lifting my hand and pulling me off of the bench. My eyes widened at the sudden movement and I swayed a bit before I caught myself on the table.

"Uh…yeah, of course. Cliff-diving and such. Great pastimes."

He snorted. "We could go shopping if you'd prefer it. I know how girls like malls and crap."

"Ha. No thanks, I'll stick with the cliff-diving. Anything else on the agenda?"

"Oh, yeah, you know, white-water rafting, crocodile hunting, tornado chasing. The works." He grinned at me, stepping away from the table and looking toward his father, who was currently making his way back over, hands in his pockets, eyes on the ground. "Guess I'd better leave you two alone." Junior decided, flicking me a knowledgeable glance.

How was it that both Jacob and his son could read me so easily? It was annoying.

"Where do you want to go?" Jacob murmured as he reached me, lifting me off the ground. I gasped a little as he crushed me to his chest, my eyebrows knitting in confusion. The silken waves of his hair tickled my bare arm as they bounced over his shoulder.

"What do you mean?"

"We're leaving."

"But, wait—what? Why?"

"I need to be alone with you." He insisted, pressing a kiss to my lips. My eyelids dipped, entrenching my world in a russet darkness as my mouth moved with his. I could hear Embry distantly, immaturely suggesting we get a room, but I ignored it. Right now, I was all Jacob's. Every ounce of my attention was zeroed in on him. I was the archer, and he was my target. Or maybe it was the other way around entirely, and he'd flown his aero straight into the bull's-eye of my heart. But that sounded corny, and I didn't want to cheapen or devalue the moment.

Just as he pulled away, his mouth opening to speak, a figure stepped out of the shadows behind him, pale and almost iridescent in the moonlight. Noticing the shock on my face, Jacob turned around, facing the direction of the man. My eyebrows met in perplexity, and I sucked in a deep breath, trying to calm the sudden thumping of my heart.

What was _he_ doing here?

_**(author's note:** okay. so guess who it is! i'm curious as to what you'll guess, and to see who is right.  
**DON'T GO ON TO THE NEXT CHAPTER WITHOUT REVIEWING! **thanksss! D**)**_


	31. Internal Combat

**(Disclaimer- no ownage.)**

_I don't really have much to say now, but i hope you like this chapter.  
key word: hope. please leave reviews, like always, and thanks so much  
for reading. _

Internal Combat

He was standing on the edge of the woods, arms crossed over his chest in a relaxed stance, a tiny little grin on his mouth. There was subtle apprehension etched into his eyes that probably only I could see, as well as a little caution, but the rest of his face was smooth and serene. I knew by the way that Jacob clenched his jaw that this portrayal of ease was seen more as one of arrogance. Anywhere else, such a laidback attitude would maybe be considered pleasant, refreshing. But here—this place…this was werewolf territory.

"What're you doing here?" I tried, but my voice barely made a sound. Jacob's quick eyes darted over to my face, trying to see what my reaction was—happiness or irritation—and then back at the man in the moonlight. The humans gathered in around the table next to me and Jake, flanked by Leah, Junior and Embry. Every mouth was shut tight, tension and anticipation filling the atmosphere. No one spoke; they all just stared with widely spread lids. Every pair of eyes was set on the vampire standing in front of us.

Edward glanced over at the mortals, observing them, obviously calculating how much they knew about the Quileutes by picking through their thoughts. Then his honey eyes flashed over at my hand where it was locked in Jacob's.

Embry dropped his tongs in shock.

"I came to speak to Bella." Edward said softly, slowly. His voice was so smooth and saccharine that I found myself a little spellbound by the words, by the simple fact that _my_ name had been spoken in that delicious cadence he used. I could hear the girl called Grace breathe a little harder, just behind me, as she stared at the creature with the copper hair.

To her, he was a man, but to me, he was an angel.

"Why?" Jacob said curtly, nearly spitting the word like a flame-struck aero. His stance was tense, ready, as he stood beside me, and his hand was nearly snapping mine in two. The both of us were shaking, sent into trembles by the roll of anger down his back. I was surprised by the fury that poured from his every essence, by how much resentment there was between him and Edward. They'd never been friends, but it seemed like there was more hostility now than there'd ever been before.

Unless, of course, my memories were wrong again.

Edward's eyes slipped up to Jacob's face, subtle annoyance and maybe even hatred marring his once-perfect mask. There was a sparkle of amusement in his stare as he cocked his head to the left—a questioning gesture—and let go of a smirk.

"What?" I wondered, looking between the two of them. I knew that Jacob must have been thinking something to Edward, something that had blatantly both humored and irritated him. What could it have been that Jacob had not wanted to say aloud?

Edward looked back at the humans, taking in the eager woman behind me who was stretching up onto her toes, trying to get a better look of the beautiful vampire, and the three others who watched him with slight caution and tremendous awe. Then he lowered his gaze down to me once more, eyes gentle.

"Why don't we take this somewhere a little more private, shall we?"

"No way, José." Junior countered, stepping forward. At the tense tone of his voice, Jenna sprung ahead, too, following. Her eyes were wide with perplexity and suspicion. "You're not going _anywhere_ with my…Jacob's Bella."

Edward cocked a silky brow, smiling.

"And why is it that you're so opposed? I'm sure you must know I've been alone with her well enough before you ever came around. Please," He said to me, voice a little less sarcastic. "just a moment. I need to speak with you."

Jacob shot him an icy glare, tightening his hand on me. I cringed at the force of it.

"Briefly." Edward added, looking pointedly at the hand Jake held me with. "And you're hurting her."

"Am not." Jacob objected in a growl, his lips curling up around his teeth. He dropped my hand anyway, though, slinging his arm around my waist instead. He was acting strangely possessive of me, more than I'd ever thought capable of him. I didn't think there could possibly be any space left between us, either, but still he seemed to strain me closer to him, like he was afraid I'd be lifted away in the gentle moonlit breeze.

My eyebrows met in confusion. "What's—"

"Who _is_ he?" Deana murmured timidly to Junior and Jenna, risking a side-glance at the striking vampire's face. When she caught him staring back, her lips pulled up in a shy smile, and she ducked her face.

I had to admit she was pretty, now that I actually took the time to look at her. She had fair skin, framed by a thick mane of glossy red, a delicate spread of freckles over her little pink cheeks. Her eyes were a striking green, and her lips were full and scarlet. Any sane, intelligent person would have suspected that a man as beautiful as Edward would be interested in—if in any human at all—a human that looked like her.

But no. He was interested in _me_. It just didn't make any sense.

"No one special," Junior said harshly, eyes narrowing. Jenna glanced back and forth between Edward and Junior, Jacob and me. She looked absolutely petrified as she grabbed hold of Junior's palm where he held it behind his back.

The gesture was so protective, so worried, that I started to think maybe Junior _had_ imprinted on her after all. This surely was no kind of summer fling. She really cared for him, feared for him—even when she couldn't understand that fear. If I could have picked anyone to be with my son, I realized, I would pick her.

But now that I'd come to this conclusion, I knew it would be just that much more painful for everyone when Junior imprinted. _If_ Junior imprinted.

"I'm not here to _quarrel_ with you, little boy, so if you'd please just abandon the attempted insults and forget your foolish pride, I really need to have a word with your…_brother's fiancé._" The last two words were so mocking, so amused, that I could all but hear the wheel's turning in every human head within five feet of me—which was all of them. There was no mistaking the implication in Edward's voice. They understood that something was up, and that had definitely been Edward's intention. He wanted them to suspect.

I met my brows in anger, wondering why he would go out of his way to do such a thing to Jacob. He'd never played dirty like this before. It wasn't like him, and I didn't like it. Not to mention I could have slapped him for speaking to my son like that. My hands curled into fists, as though I could have hurt him with them.

"Hey. Watch yourself. Remember where you are, _Batboy. _I really wouldn't wanna have to create a scene in front of the guests." Jacob's words were calmer than our son's, but there was an edge of a threat to them. I knew intuitively that every breath was being held—apart from mine, which was increasing in speed. "You'll talk to Bella when _she_ wants to talk to _you._"

"I want to talk to him." The words tumbled out of my mouth before my brain could even process the thought. Everyone stared at me. Jacob looked almost as though I'd stabbed him in the arm with the rushed sentence, like I'd just told him to rot in hell or get hit by a bus. I sucked in air, realizing the mistake, wishing I could take it back. I knew the double meaning he'd have gotten out of what I'd said.

He'd not heard _'I want to talk to him.' _He'd heard _'I want him.'_

My teeth locked together.

"_What?"_ Junior spit, reacting to my words as if I'd just confessed to the single most horrible thing in the universe. His entire body was trembling with waves of tension and reproach, angled so that he was facing me with wide, incredulous eyes and a taught mouth. Jenna grabbed onto his other hand now, as if holding him in place. Like she could ever keep him there.

Embry cleared his throat. "Kid," He lifted his chin, gesturing to Junior with a carefully peaceful tone. "Why don't you go take everybody home? I'm thinkin' the party's pretty much done for. The fire went out."

"_What?"_ Junior repeated.

"Wait!" Caleb protested. His voice was deeper than I'd realized. He sounded oddly similar to Kermit the Frog. "I wanna see—"

"There's nothing to see here." Jacob interrupted.

After much arguing and even a little kicking and screaming on Junior's part, Embry managed to get Junior to take Jenna and the others home. Junior wasn't the only one mad that he'd not gotten to stay; the females—aside from Jenna—seemed reluctant to depart the presence of the pale mythical beauty, and Caleb just seemed upset to miss whatever fight he'd been hoping for.

Jenna seemed over all relieved that Caleb hadn't gotten his wish—and probably comforted also that Junior hadn't been caught in the middle of whatever might have been about to go down.

I was just wishing I could understand what was going on at all.

"Well?" I said expectantly, pointing the word at Edward's tranquil face. His eyes met mine when I spoke, and a strange sensation poured through me—hot and cold all at once, like melted ice-cream. My bones went soft.

"Privately, please?" He requested. When he lifted a hand out to take me, Jacob almost threw me to the ground to get me away from him. I jumped backwards, trying to steady myself so I wouldn't fall on my butt, and whooshed out an infuriated gasp.

"Touch her and I swear to the God that damned you I'll rip the head right off your stubby little neck." Jacob growled, leaning forward, readying himself for the attack. My mouth popped open in shock.

"_Stubby?"_

Edward slipped me a lopsided smile, humored by my shock at the word, and then peered back at the furious Jacob. The difference in their two expressions alone would have been comical had I not been so upset at the time. Jacob was wild with rage, and Edward…well, Edward just continued to stand there, graceful and pretty and much calmer than any normal person was supposed to be after getting his life threatened. And when he spoke, the words, too, were more or less calm. Plus a bit smug.

"Listen—and I do suggest you do so carefully, _dog._ You do not, and will not, tell me what I may or may not do. If I want to touch her, I'll damn well do so. You've no say in the matter, so I advise you stay out of it." He looked over at me, a small smile on his lips. My heart was thumping actively in my chest at what he'd said. I couldn't breathe right. "Bella?" He said simply, offering me the choice he'd not awarded Jake.

"…Okay." I said a little uncertainly, looking over at Jacob. Jacob's teeth were clenched, anger still painted on his face, but his eyes were weak, defeated. I'd hurt him—badly.

I closed my eyes, breathing deeply through my nose to calm myself so I could speak effectively. "Jacob," I murmured, brushing timid fingers along his arm. He blinked, staring straight ahead, and did not turn to face me. I felt a piece of my heart break and fall away. "Don't worry. I'll be right back. I'm not going anywhere."

He didn't respond, and I had no words left to say; none that I could think of would make any kind of difference now. What was done was done, and I needed answers from Edward that I couldn't ask Jacob. I needed this. I just hoped that I hadn't permanently damaged whatever little slice of confidence Jacob had had in me—or, at the very least, his ego.

With one press of my lips to Jacob's forearm, I walked the short distance to where Edward stood, feeling like a traitor. And for a split second, I could have sworn that I saw the pain I felt spread out across Edward's pallid face, saw the sorrow in his eyes as he stared past me at Jacob. The sympathy was so profound, the guilt so utterly plain, that I choked a little at the sight of it. But as quickly as it was there, it was also gone, and then he was walking into the woods.

"Screw this." I heard Jacob rage behind my back as I followed the vampire. I wasn't sure if I was supposed to hear it, but I did, and the anger and betrayal in his tone nearly had me falling to my knees. My heart was disjointed and battered, splayed out all over the forest floor for the harm I'd done and the love of the man I'd broken.

A tortured howl ripped its way into my eardrums only seconds later, and I knew the sound was Jacob's—his pain, my pain. I blinked to keep the tears away, hoping Edward wouldn't see.

When we'd walked a distance into the woods, Edward stopped, turning to face me. There was just enough breakage in the trees above for the light of night to filter through, breaking over his face like a wave of silken glory. He was astonishing, magnificent. So much better than me.

And when he looked into my eyes, I knew that he would never have agreed with my last thought. The gaze he threw at me was intense, devoted, and utterly convincing. He was in love with me. Always had been, always would be. And what I knew also, what I knew he would say, made me want to puke up the entire two lives I'd endured, to cry out the entire Atlantic Ocean for all of the grief it would cause me—the grief it would cause all of us. Because I couldn't hear this now. I couldn't do this now. This wasn't the discussion I'd been meaning to have.

"Bella." Edward said, lifting my hand with his. His fingers were cold, and wonderful. I closed my eyes to block the feelings, to block the sight of him from my mind. Not now. Not ever.

My poor Jacob.

"Bella, I'm not giving you up. I need you. Stay with me, please."

_**(author's note:** okay, so before anyone goes and types out an angry i-hate-sampire review, PLEASE take into consideration  
that Bella hasn't said anything back to edward, and that she really does still love jacob. so just wait it out, if you will, and  
bear with me. there are a TON of plot twists in this story, as you probably already know by having read this far. i'm a crazy  
kid. D but thank you for reading, and don't hate me, please. ) **)**_


	32. Forced Awakening

**(Disclaimer- i don't own twilight.)**

_so here you have it: the thirty-second chapter. the next one is almost finished and  
should be up here fairly soon, but just in case, savor this one--well, if you really care that much.  
please leave reviews and tell me what you think. i'd also like some opinions on how you think this  
should go. you know, the classic fire vs. ice thing. pick a side, and defend it plentifully--nicely, too--and  
you may just impact my decision, though i'm fairly sure that i know how this will be ending up.  
anyway. thanks and have a nice read._

Forced Awakening

I remembered crossing my fingers, shivering in the cold air of the stuffy vehicle. It'd been just moments before I'd stepped out onto the road from Kyle's car—just moments before I'd left him to search my way through Forks. There'd been a scruffy pounding in my head, like somebody'd stuffed cotton in there and was repeatedly sticking their thumb in through the fibers of it, pushing it around inside my skull. I remembered thinking that if I couldn't find Jacob, at least I'd have Edward, though it probably wouldn't be the same. Nor would it be enough—not as good as having Jacob.

But now here I was standing in front of Edward, feeling that same cotton-brain sensation, wobbling and besotted. I'd promised myself before not to let myself wallow in my loss of Jacob, if in fact he had imprinted or not stayed long enough on Earth to wait for me. I'd made myself agree to be happy with Edward, and not to think of it as settling. I'd thought that doing those things, going through with all of my self-proclaimed promises, would be difficult. But it wasn't even half as difficult as what I was faced with now.

I presently didn't have to settle for Edward. I didn't have to mourn for Jacob. What I was given now was the option of choosing between both. In one hand, I held a devoted and beautiful Jacob, and in the other, a pleading, magnificent Edward—each of whom wanted _me. _Each of whom were constantly tugging on my heart strings, ripping at me as though I was some sort of worn-out rope in a game of tug-a-war. It was the sort of thing that gave new meaning to the phrase '_have my cake and eat it too.'_

My cake, Jacob, was beautiful, everything I could have wanted. I loved him and I thanked God every morning for the fact that he was here, in the flesh, for me to touch and talk to, to love unconditionally. He was all that I was looking for when I spoke of finding sanity. He was every single string that connected me to the earth, every single note in the best of all my favorite songs. He was—in a way—my own personal imprint.

But now I was being pushed in the direction of something I'd not wanted to deal with. I knew that Edward would love me, but I'd not thought that he would force this upon me. I didn't think it was possible—in his nature—to come at me like this, pleading with me for the love that he and I both knew I held for him. I'd thought it'd be easier, that I'd be able to ignore the reaction of my heart when I thought of him. I'd thought that he would stay away and let me ride out my joy and my forged oblivion so I could stay happy. But he'd apparently changed.

And so I started to laugh. A lot.

Edward blinked at me, his eyebrows creasing over his puzzled eyes, and he reached out a hand to grab at my shoulder as I doubled over into myself and careened toward the ground. He didn't know what to make of my reaction. Neither did I. It was all just too much stress for me—too much pressure. I couldn't deal.

"Bella? Are you alright?" He shook me gently, afraid of my insane laughter. "Bella!" He said again, louder, pulling me to him as he fell to his knees beside me. As my laughter slowly melted into tears, he rocked me, a sad murmured song on his lips.

After a while of this, I pulled myself together, tying together the separate pieces of myself so that I could work properly again. I was a robot fitting together the corks and the screws, hooking back up the wires. I was a mess of shredded paper, taped back together to form a whole page.

"Why are you doing this?" I whispered to him when he pulled away to look at me.

"I love you, Bella."

"Don't say that. That isn't what I asked." The irritation in my voice was tangible, and his eyes flickered to the ground, away from my face. I imagined an impossible blush filling out over his milky cheekbones.

"That is my answer—the only one that I have."

"Think of a new one. Love is an emotion, not an excuse. Why are you doing this to me?" I didn't know where the sudden heat came from, where the fiery spread of fury seeped out to coat my words. I had no idea what had happened to make me speak this way to Edward. I was too astonished after I'd uttered the thoughts to even breathe again. Everyone around me seemed to have changed, even myself.

"He hasn't told you anything, I presume?" Edward shot back with some ice of his own. His eyes were narrowed and filled with a combination of grief and rage as he stared at me. The gold was leaking from them slowly, a pinhole draining all the glorious color and leaving only the black. Each second they grew darker, each second he looked more like a vampire than a man. A shiver rolled down my spine. I was acutely aware of his hand still in mine.

"I don't want to have to repeat myself again, Edward." I snarled, ignoring him. "Answer my damn question. Why are you doing this?"

My back slammed abruptly into the ground behind me, sending my body into a tiny tremor of shock. Before my head could process how I'd gotten there, Edward was above me, his cold lips tangled with mine in a way that was so unlike him—so very unlike him—that I started crying again. I couldn't calculate my own reactions anymore. I couldn't figure out the actions of anyone around me. I was in a parallel universe where everyone had changed.

The ice of his breath was pouring into me, lifting my heart from its place in my chest so that it was tightly nudged into the corners of my throat. Warm tears flooded my cheeks and disappeared against his, and his eyes watched me as I cried beneath him. He knew that I wasn't crying out of fear or hatred or hurt. I was crying because he was forcing me to admit that I loved him. Because my lips were moving with his and I was enjoying the feel of it, craving more of it. I was crying because I loved Edward.

And I cried because I'd been stupid enough to think that I could ignore that.

He pulled away from me after a moment, but he held tight to my wrists, holding me there. I barely fought him. I was too deeply submerged in the sorrow of my realization to struggle. Edward was a good man, and he wouldn't hurt me. But somewhere in the time I'd been gone he'd taken back his sense of self-interest, and he was fighting for me, letting me hurt myself with the truth I'd tried to reject. And so I did; I turned the hatred inward and battered myself from the inside out with the repetition of each sneering self-accusation until I couldn't even cry anymore.

And then finally I was silent, lying beneath the man I could no longer deny that I loved, feeling as if I'd taken a torch to every inch of my insides and as if my breath would come out as ash.

"Bella." Edward whispered sadly.

I stared at him through eyes that were veiled with self-hate. His cold hand smoothed my hair, the action carefully stripped of the anger I could see in his stare. His jaw was set in stone, his eyes hard as rocks and black as night. He was dangerous and beautiful and mine if I wanted him. And I did.

We were both so mad that neither of us could get our eyes to cool down. I could almost see the steam rolling off of our stiffened forms. He had to pull away from me so that he wouldn't crush me and his hands were having a hard time being gentle. I dug my nails into the dirt, wondering where Jacob was, listening for howls and silent footsteps.

So much had changed. So much had changed.

"So now what?" I barked at Edward. He turned to glare at me with his night eyes. Hate rolled in my stomach like a child in leaves. I wanted to chuck something at him, have it reverberate off of his hard skin and come back. Hit me instead.

There wasn't anything hard enough to damage either of us nearby, so I settled for a handful of leaves, launching them at him with a pathetic growl.

He cocked an eyebrow at me, breathing hard to control his own anger. "I guess you have some decisions to make."

"Why couldn't you just let me be?"

"You were mine. You loved me. You still do, don't you? If you don't, say so and I swear I'll be gone."

"Don't do this."

"I'm sorry. I am; I'm sorry. Do you think that this was done without careful and painful amounts of consideration? Why do you think I'm so angry? I could kill myself for hurting you this way. I want to."

"Prove it." I muttered beneath my breath. Edward's eyes flashed with pain as he turned his head away. I sighed, knowing that that was a low blow. "Sorry."

"Did you once question how you came to be his? You don't remember it, I'm certain, and he hasn't told you. Don't you want to know how you got to this point?"

"I can't ask him that. I don't know why. It's like a frog caught in my throat. I can't push the words from my mouth."

"You were supposed to marry me." He said quietly. I watched as his eyes slipped down to my hand, and I reached out to take his. He hesitated at first, but soon released his palm for my fingers to embrace. "Do you remember that?"

"It's the last thing I remember. Well, sort of. We were in the car, going over magazines with Alice, and then in the house…Sam Uley called, you told me about the invitation you gave to Jacob and how he ran away, and then I went to find him. Then, in my memory, I was shot."

"Hm." Edward's face was thoughtful as he chewed over my could-be-false memories. I waited impatiently for him to tell me what was wrong and what was right in my equation. My fingers clutched his hand. "Your memory is wrong, I'm afraid."

I nodded. I knew this already. Now I wanted truth. "What happened?"

His eyes met mine for a long moment, and I couldn't understand the emotion in them. He seemed cautious, hurt, worried. The pain was understandable, but the rest messed with my head. What was he so apprehensive about?

"Bella…"

"What?" It was a whisper.

"Charlie was sick." He paused, looking me over for some sign of comprehension, but there was no remembrance to light up my eyes. My face was blank with confusion. I blinked, shaking my head in a carefully slow motion.

"What do you mean, he was sick?" The truth was crawling down over me. I was holding my breath.

"…He was _dying_, Bella." Edward murmured softly, eyes holding mine, waiting for my reaction.

"No." The gasp was so filled with agony that even I was surprised. Edward's face contorted with my pain, fingers tightening over mine.

And then, swiftly, like an infuriated spirit come back to me, I was possessed by my horrible past:

**One.** _I was sitting in the kitchen, head in my hands. The phone continued to ring; four times, ten times, twelve. I didn't move to get it. I couldn't even look up. My body was motionless and my eyes were damp. The house was silent as I sat in the midst of its ailing clouds. My heart was in shreds for the father I was losing. _

_Cancer. How could Charlie possibly have cancer? _

_A small, helpless sob threatened my horrid silence, and then I was bawling again._

**Two.** _I was in the hospital with Edward, standing beside a room which contained my broken dad. I could feel my hands shake even as they were held in Edward's immobilizing grasp. The ring on my left hand burned its way through my skin, reminding me of my promise. I was to be married to Edward just five days from then, and after, I would be gone from Charlie forever. _

_He was dying. My father was lying on his deathbed, days uncertainly numbered, and I was making plans never to see him again. I wanted to curl into a ball and die _myself_. How could I possibly think of leaving him like this? Who would care for him? What kind of daughter was I? I was the very essence of malice, the very core of disgust._

_Charlie was dying. Charlie was dying._

**Three.** _I was sitting in my room, staring unseeingly at the black window. Night was all around me, death staining my walls. I could feel it creeping in through the light blue paint, circling us like vultures. It was here for my father, sitting and waiting maliciously for the attack. And my wedding was tomorrow. _

_I'd called it off._

_My door was thrown open then, and Jacob was in its frame. I barely saw him. He was just another splotch of paint on a dreary canvas, another piece of life that my father would be torn away from. I couldn't concentrate. I couldn't move past my guilt._

_How could I leave him?_

_Horrible. I was horrible, despicable. How was this going to work?_

_Jacob said nothing as he took me in his arms. I hardly even thought of the fact that he should still have been off on his therapeutic voyage. We sat rocking for a while, the two of us staring into nothing and seeing every shade of loss. Without words, without a need for them, we shared every single grief, and mine became his. He held me as I silently wept._

_And then he showed me a way. He gave me the escape I needed, the only way that I could stay with my father. And without a heart, without a soul, I agreed. _

_Charlie died two years later, the day after Jacob proposed._

I fell back to the present with a gasp, my heart choking for air. I didn't recognize the odd sound coming from my mouth. I didn't understand that Edward was trying to hush my cries. I couldn't believe it.

"Oh my God." I blubbered. Edward stared at me with an unfathomable pain marking his beautiful face. It was obvious to him what had happened. He sat quietly with me as I wept for my multitude of losses, his cool hand rubbing gently against my arm.

I had given him up to be with my father. It was so unfair to him, and so inescapable.

"I'm so sorry." I whispered, twisting to look at him.

"Shh. No. You did what you thought was right, Bella."

"No. No, I could have stayed with you. I could have waited. I could have…" I sat struggling in his cold arms for a way that I could have escaped my decision. There had to have been a way to have been with him. There had to have been.

"You couldn't have waited. Bella, you couldn't have lived with yourself. If you had had an eternity to live, you would have always felt guilty, felt as though you didn't deserve the never-ending life that your father had barely gotten the chance to taste. I know you. You wouldn't have been able to deal with the grief. You did it for your father, so that you wouldn't hurt him, and so that you wouldn't hurt yourself. But Bella, you have no one to please but yourself now. You don't have to feel guilty for being with me. Please." He was begging now, pleading with me.

With tears on my cheeks and a flame in my chest, I kissed him hard on the mouth.

Though aware of the creature before me, I saw the man through the hard skin and the black eyes. I saw through the poison running through his veins and mouth, through the predator that had inhabited the man. And through them, I saw Edward Anthony Masen, a man who could cry and pulse and break. A man who had pressed forward, merging with the monster inside of him, to love _me. _A man who sat now before me crying and breaking in two. And in my eyes, in my mind, he was suddenly soft and fragile, so very fragile.

And I would have to break him again…wouldn't I?

I pulled my mouth from Edward's then, gasping. His eyes were locked with mine, taking in every unspoken word that traveled through my teary brown irises. I watched the reflection in his blackened vision, knowing that he would see the pain in mine and know that I was thinking of Jacob, know that I was hurting for Jacob. Know that I wanted to be with Jacob.

For only a moment, Edward's face contorted with so much torture that I was almost pulled in under the wave along with him, both of us drowning. But nothing ever stayed there on his face for very long. After only a second, the pain of his eyes melted into a blank stare and his face was smoothed out into a blanket of calm.

He looked absolutely dead. Shut down. Gone from me.

"I'm sorry that I hurt you." As he said this, I opened my mouth to cut him off, trying to soothe the pain he was hiding in his monotone voice. I wanted to reach out, to hug him, to pull him to me and erase the despair that I had brought to his stretched-out life. But he placed a hand over my mouth, his other tying down the wrist I had lifted to pull him to me. He took a long, deep breath, working to keep the blank look on his face.

"I am truly, deeply sorry. I was selfish and I've hurt you. I didn't mean to. It's no excuse—I should have known better. I'd just thought…" He caught himself as his voice quavered and the mask fell down. Then so quickly he was wearing the lifeless face again, and his feelings were clouded. "No matter. I hurt you and I'm a fool for it. You belong to Jacob. I see that now—maybe I always have. I apologize for wasting your time like this. It wasn't fair to either of you." He looked down for a minute, dropping my hand. "If you would, please give Jacob my apologies, too…though I'm sure he won't accept them."

So softly—a sighing of trees as the gentle morning breeze swept them—I heard him say that he loved me.

And then, just like that, he was gone. I'd barely even blinked.

I broke down right there in the middle of the forest, sucked down deep into the murky depths of three separate pains: Edward's, Jacob's, and my own.

I did not resurface.


	33. Poison

**(Disclaimer- nothing catchy. no ownership.)**

_okay, so i have a feeling that--if you don't already hate me for taking so long in putting this up--  
you will hate me by the time you finish reading this chapter. :( its sad. but don't hate me anyway  
because the story is NOT over. by now you must know that my storyline is always busting out some random  
u-turns, changing direction constantly. so don't automatically want to plunge a knife in my throat if things  
aren't going the way you want them to. i'm always changing things.  
but anyway. read and review, please. :)  
and sorry, this is a little short._

Poison

I woke in Jacob's bed. For one glorious moment, the shadow of sleep held strong to my mind, blocking from me the sight of a vampire's tortured black eyes, but soon even that no longer stuck. It was only one glorious moment, and then I was pulled up into myself in the fetal position, fighting back tears and confusion, wondering how I'd managed to get into the house and off the forest floor.

Pain was bitter and cold on my tongue and my hands felt emptier than ever before. My feet yearned for the trodden earth, the instinct to run slithering into my system like an ill-fated disease, but I couldn't draw away from myself. I would shatter if I moved so much as an inch.

When the door opened, Jacob froze in the frame, staring at me with wide eyes. Emotion flickered fervently on his face for just a second, and then it was gone. Something inside me dimmed and died as I watched him. I could see his need to turn around and slam the door, but he stood tall and determined where he was.

"Thought you were sleeping still." He excused himself, tone monochrome and bored. His eyes stared at my forehead but saw nothing. Instead they looked right through me to the wall behind my head. My heart was as empty as his gaze.

"Thanks for bringing me back here." I said after a moment, trying to find my footing in the conversation. His hate for me was palpable, but still I couldn't keep the vain hope that his love still existed from finding a way into my voice. My face was desperate no matter how hard I tried to change it.

His eyes narrowed. "I didn't bring you anywhere." It was nearly a snarl, and he sounded darkly amused by my assumption. The words were a harsh slap that reverberated throughout me. "That was Junior. Thank _him."_

"Where is he?" I murmured, voice shaky.

"Garage with Jenna. He told me to tell you the _mother-son play-date _is off." His tone was so cruel and mocking, so unlike him. He was Jacob, only soured like year-old milk. Intuition fed to me the idea that he no longer considered me safe or good for his son, no longer considered me trustworthy or nontoxic. No longer considered me to be family. Junior was Jacob's son only now. I was excluded. I could feel it down to the soles of my traitorous feet.

"Is there something you want him for?"

He may not have meant it, but I heard an edge to his words, and I could feel the shame twist around in my mouth, somehow becoming even bitterer than before. It seemed in my head that Jacob had been accusing me of trying to hurt my son, too.

I shook my head quickly, trying not to relay the pain from my chest to my face, staring at him. I hoped that he would look at me, just one short glance that held some meaning, one little ounce of affection, but he did not cast his eyes in my direction. His hand was tight on the doorknob.

My lip trembled for a moment. I couldn't keep it still. Tears were nearing.

"Jacob…" I started to say something, but couldn't process the thought. He glared at me balefully—the way the father of a murdered son would stare at the killer. He looked purely disgusted as I sat searching for a way to organize the hurt in my head. I couldn't take it.

"Does he hate me?" I whispered. That wasn't what I'd wanted to ask, but it drew me closer to the point. I blinked back the emotion, twisting my fingers around the sheets. Jacob averted his eyes, jaw setting snugly into place. His teeth were clenched.

"No." He muttered.

"That was a lie."

He looked back at me, his glare somehow impossibly intensified, ready to defend his son's feelings. "He's _angry_. Did you expect him to be strolling around whistling show tunes?" I shrunk back from his aggressive tone, flinching. His lips were curled up over his teeth.

Tears fell down my face. My hands shook. Jacob's eyes were locked on my fingers now, refusing to watch the slow break of emotion dawn in my eyes. I pulled my lids down over them, trying to conceal the hurt.

"You hate me, too." I managed to whisper. The warm sheets were ice against my flesh. I was frozen in time.

Jacob didn't respond. I guess I didn't expect him to.

Instead, he turned on his heels and slammed the door behind him. I opened my eyes just in time to watch him go.

Two seconds passed, then ten. I couldn't breathe as I waited, hoping foolishly that he would come back to me, open the door and pull me to him. I knew that it wouldn't happen, but I couldn't seem to keep myself from rolling it around inside my head, savoring the stolen beauty of it. But that happiness was not mine to have.

No, I would have to work for something like that.

I flung myself toward the door, blindly stumbling through the hallway, trying to locate him through tear-blurred eyes.

"Jacob!" I called pleadingly, using the door frame to propel myself forward. I felt so dizzy. I couldn't see where I was going and tripped, smashing hard into the floor. Crying, I forced myself back to my feet, hands stretched before me as though they could draw him back. My heart was but a gaping hole in my chest.

When I found him, he was standing motionlessly in the center of the kitchen. He had his back to me, fists drawn close to his sides. His entire core seemed to be shaking with anger and remorse, and I could feel the floor tremble beneath my feet. This was what I'd done to him. This was what had become of Jacob in the aftermath of _me._

"Jake," I repeated. I despised the sound of my tears. It was so selfish of me to have been hurt. I knew he could hear the apology building in my throat, but that didn't stop me. I needed to say the actual words. "I'm so sorry." I breathed.

His fist hit the wall, breaking through it like play-dough._ "Don't."_

The word was so cruel and sharp that I felt it cut all the way from my ears to the soles of my feet. My limp arms begged to reach for him, to make him take me, but I would not let them. Jacob still had his back to me, body tense, refusing even to look in my direction, and I knew that he did not want me to touch him. I knew that he did not want me.

And it was then that I realized I'd lost him.

My eyes welled with too many tears, my throat so filled with sobs I feared opening my mouth, feared that the gush of misery would end me right there. That was what I deserved. I was so horrible and despicable.

I was a murderer of the very worst kind—a murderer of souls.

And still, even knowing this, I could not stop myself from throwing the knives.

"Jacob, please," I begged, dropping to my knees just two feet behind him. "_Please?"_

He spun around like an angry door on a broken hinge, his fists extended before him in absolute rage. The glint in his eyes was murderous. His black hair swung on his shoulders, making him look like a dark sorcerer intent on destroying the world. I felt so sleepy, so sunken.

"_Why_ do you keep _doing _this to me!?" Jacob screamed. The angered mask slipped down a bit and his eyes filled with anguish. I felt every piece of his broken heart hit me, a thousand shards of glass handed over like a bouquet. I rocked on my knees.

"Sorry, sorry, sorry" I half-mumbled, half-sobbed. I couldn't remember any other words.

And then the hatred was gone. There was so much pain on his naked face that I could barely take it. To see this deep scarring that I'd caused him made me want to take a knife to myself, drag it deep beneath my skin, try to imitate his wound. But nothing could match what I'd done to him. Nothing compared.

His hands found his face. He dragged them over his features, pulling tears along with his fingers. His knees hit the floor before me and I crawled to him, draping myself around him like a defective curtain. Jacob pulled me into his arms.

"You're killing me, Bells." He whispered against my hair. His voice was raspy with tears. I sniffled, drowning.

"Sorry, so sorry." It was all I could manage.

He dragged his lips across my cheek, a parting gesture. My heart was gripped in ice as his hot lips met mine, harsh and horrifying. Was it really so similar to the kisses Edward had given me when he'd thought he would lose me? It couldn't be. No.

"I love you, but you're killing me." Fingers grabbed at my arms and separated me from him. He stood, shaking me from his leg as I tried desperately to reattach. "No, Bella." He scolded as I whimpered. "Please. I need you to leave. Go to your house—it's still yours. Go to the Cullens. Go to that Kyle kid's. I don't care. But you can't stay here. Not now. You've gotta get out. I can't take this now."

"No, Jacob. Don't do this. Don't."

His eyes hardened at my plea, grinding his teeth. "You know what I want, Bella."

Jacob didn't speak the words as though in a question, but with clarity and truth. He said it like a fact, and it was. I knew what he wanted. I knew.

"You said you didn't love him and you lied to me. You lied and you can't even make it right, can you? You can't look at me and tell me those four simple words. Can you? Can you tell me you don't love him? Do it, Bells, and I'll fucking sign this house in your name, too, with my own damn blood. Every piece of me is yours if you want it, but you can't have it both ways. You've gotta make up your mind. You can't do this to me anymore. I'm done. I have to be done."

My mouth burned. I felt the words scorch my tongue. _I don't love him, I don't love him. _But I did.

I couldn't say it. I couldn't get myself to say it.

His teeth clicked together audibly, nostrils flaring. With shaking hands, he flung the front door open, threatening, his eyes on my face. "Say it, Bella. Say the fucking sentence or get the hell out."

My fingers shook. My head was elevated in the air, detached. My heart was in the ground with my original body. I wished the whole of me could have joined them.

"_Four words._ Four damn words. Can't you say it?" His lips trembled and his eyes filled. Jacob clasped a hand to the door to keep himself on his feet. "_Say_ it_, _damn you."

"I'm so sorry."

And then I was out on the street, Kyle's cell phone in my hand, with Jacob's last words ringing in my head.

_"You're poison, Bella. Poison."_


	34. Fiends

**(Disclaimer- if i owned jacob black or edward cullen.. do you honestly think i'd be sitting here writing this?)**

_okay, so this is a long one--well, compared to the last chapter at least. i really hope that you don't  
forget what happens in the beginning!! :D and it also might be kind of stupid. i haven't figured out whether  
or not i think its dumb yet. i've read and revised it a krabillion times. but anyway, read and review, please.  
and thanks for the reviews for the last chapter. :) by the way, this starts off as jake's pov, then switches to bellas.  
i hope that isnt confusing when you read it.  
new chapter up on MANBELLA, too_

Fiends

Already thirty minutes had passed and I still hadn't let go of the door handle. It was ice cold against my palm, the condensation forming beneath the heat of my skin. Its artic burn scorched me, pained me the way that the tears on her face had pained me. It took all of my strength not to give in to her pleas and keep her here.

But I had to let her go this time. I couldn't deal with the pain.

She had hurt me too many times, and now we had a child together, though he couldn't really be called that anymore. Still, I couldn't drag him into such things. He knew things about the Cullens that not many people did, things I couldn't even be sure _she_ knew about them. Things had changed while she was gone, and they had changed drastically.

To walk into those woods with Edward was the single worst thing she could have done to us. It was flat-out betrayal.

_She hadn't meant it. She didn't know._

I pinched my eyes closed with my fingertips, pressing my back against the door. Was she still standing there in the street, streaks of moisture lining her face? Was she wandering aimlessly, unable to see or breathe through all of the heaving? Had she called him yet, told him to come and rescue her like he usually did? Or was she already in his arms, safe and warm in his stupid mansion, huddled up like a broken little orphan under the careful supervision of those _murdering_ leeches?

I would never forgive Edward for that night. Never.

The window in the kitchen clicked open and I saw Junior peek in from outside. He blinked at me, his expression expectant. Of course he'd heard all of it. Our hearing was not quite as good as our venomous enemies, but it was better than your average Joe. I knew already that Jenna had gone home. Of course he'd sent her off when the screaming had started in the living room.

"You okay?" He asked.

_No, Junior. I'm not o-fucking-kay. How the hell could I ever be _okay_? _

"Sure, sure. She's just a girl, right?" The words sounded pathetic even to me, and I made myself chuckle to take the edge off. That might have just made it worse, though. I sunk to the floor.

Two seconds later it seemed he was pulling the door open behind me, dragging me up against his chest. I felt the dampness on his shirt before I realized I was crying. He patted my head awkwardly.

"It isn't every day that _I_ get to console _you._" He commented, trying to alleviate the tension. I couldn't stop shaking. The _pat, pat, pat_ of his hand quickened, his eyebrows connecting at the center. "I don't know what to say to make it better. You waited such a long time for this." He paused, listening to my pathetic sniffles. "You know what, Dad? Forget her. She's just a stupid bitch. She didn't deserve you anyway. You just wait, you'll find somebody better, somebody pretty like Jenna, someone who—"

I grabbed him by the collar, pulling his face to mine. "Don't you _ever_ fucking say that about your mother again, do you hear me? Not one more word about her. She is _not_ a bitch. And I couldn't get any better even if I tried." The snarling of my words hit him harder than a bite would have, and I felt a twinge of regret when I was done. There was too much anger here. He didn't deserve this gust of fury. It wasn't his to be had.

He blinked, rocking back a little. "_Sorry_. Just trying to help. What else is there for me to say? That she was wonderful and you messed up? That you should have dealt with her indecisiveness and let her flickering emotions eat at you until there was nothing left but bones? You want me to tell you that you're nothing without her, that you should have just—"

"Okay. You are _not _helping me." I shook my head, lifted myself off of the floor and wiped my hands off on my sweatpants. Suddenly I had a migraine the size of Asia. I wanted to sleep, but more so I wanted to find her. Junior's accusations were truer than he knew, and already my heart was reacting to them in the most painful of ways. Words I recognized flitted through my thoughts: _Mistake, wrong, stupid, failure. _

_Go find her. _

I made myself sit on the couch.

"Can I get you anything?" My son asked, eyeing me as I sprawled out like a drunk after a long day of booze.

I pressed the heel of my hand to my forehead, wishing I could push away the thumping in my skull, and tried to think of something witty and sarcastic to say in response. The only thing my head seemed capable of supplying me with, though, was her name. I kept my answer basic instead, replying with something simple, something that didn't require much thought. "Nope."

"Should I leave you alone, or am I helping?"

"I don't think awkward attempts at small talk are making this any easier, really."

"I'll take that as a _no. _Mind if I head to Jenna's?"

"Go away."

And with a slow click of the door sliding into place, he did, and I was left alone.

When the phone rang, I nearly had a seizure jumping up to reach it. Grace lost, I pushed it straight off the table and under the couch, its ring seeming to increase in volume as it hid from me. I growled in annoyance, flipping the couch over.

"Stupid piece of crap."

"Jacob?" The voice on the phone whispered, obviously hearing the last of what I'd said. I blinked for a minute.

"You're _calling_ me?" I didn't know why I was surprised to hear her voice. I'd known it would be her—hell I'd _hoped _it would be her. That was why I'd flipped the couch over, wasn't it? Poisonous Bella. She was as venomous as the crap that saturated her lover's teeth. "I told you I didn't want to hear from you again. Did I speak another language? Slip into the old Quileute tongue?"

She paused for a moment, absorbing the heat in my tone. I closed my eyes, trying to cool it.

"I couldn't think of anyone else's number." She mumbled.

My face went blank at the sound of her words. She was afraid. Something was wrong, something was very wrong. My heart sped up in my chest. My fingers went numb. "What is it? What's wrong?"

"…I think I'm being followed."

"What? Where are you?"

"…I don't really know."

I clenched my teeth, aggravated. Talking to her was like pulling teeth. "How could you possibly not know where you are? Are you on the street, the woods…near _his _house?"

"I told you, I don't know. The woods somewhere. I couldn't really see where I was going."

I held my breath, knowing that it was my fault she hadn't been able to see. I'd made her cry so much with what I'd said. There had to have been a better way to tell her to leave. There was no need for me to be as mean as I was. I was just so angry. Still so angry. I wanted to chuck the phone.

"Why do you think you're being followed?"

"I can hear something behind me. I thought it was Kyle at first, but I'm not sure now. I _saw_ it. Something white…and fast."

"Stupid filthy bloodsuckers," I muttered beneath my breath. "Maybe you should just tell your idiot B.F. to quit playing hide and seek already. It isn't nice of him to scare you."

"It isn't him." Bella's voice was certain as she said this, and for some reason it made me sad. I settled in on the floor, Indian-style, and wiped a hand across my face.

"You're sure?"

"I called his name, and no one answered. I think they can hear me, Jacob. I'm scared."

My heartbeat accelerated, imagining the danger she could be in. Dammit, why was she always doing this to me? I needed to forget about her, but how could I ignore this? Could I just hang up the phone, hope that Edward found her in time? Would I find her in the obituary section of the newspaper tomorrow morning if I did?

"Shit." I said, sighing. "Hang on; I'm coming to find you."

--

I pulled my sweater tighter around my waist, shivering. It'd been almost twenty minutes since Jacob hung up on me, and I still hadn't seen him. I'd thought he'd possibly howl or something to let me know he was close, but maybe he just hadn't found me yet.

What if he _couldn't _find me? What if he didn't make it in time?

My bottom lip trembled even when I held it between my fingers and I couldn't keep the tears from finding my face. Fear held me rooted into place, but my eyes continued to dart around as though they could possibly find something new in the dreary green woods.

I heard the sound again, a sort of snapping sound — a crackle of muffled laughter, the crunch of a twig. These were obvious sounds, _intended _sounds. Whoever was out here with me surely wanted me to know, wanted to taste the fear in my breath. They were taunting me, playing with my mind, increasing my heart-rate. What did they want from me? Who was this? Emmett? Jasper? Someone playing a cruel joke?

I felt the terror rise in my throat, coming up in the form of a scream.

Someone grabbed my shoulder. My mouth opened to let the fear fall out.

"Shh!" Jacob ordered, clasping his hand over my mouth. I blinked in shock, surprised to see him in his human form, and pushed myself into the safe blanket of his skin. I knew that it was a bad idea, seeing as I could almost feel the bleeding sore I'd gnawed into his chest, but I couldn't help it. I was shaking to the point of collapse. It was so cold here.

I was blubbering.

"Bella, seriously. Shut the hell up, I can't hear anything."

I buried my face into his arm, trying to do as he said. The woods felt suddenly safer with him next to me, the cold presence gone. The snapping of twigs, the horrible laughter…all of it seemed to melt away. But still, I could feel the fear, an icy hand pushed hard against my back.

"You're right. Someone's been here." He said, voice careful and hushed. I glanced up at him, eyes wide, watching him watch our surroundings. My blood seemed to curdle and cool beneath my skin. His fingers brushed against my arms, noticing the chill. "We need to leave. Now."

"Who was it, Jake?" I whispered, trying to keep up with him as he pulled me along by the hand. It was getting darker now, the sun setting up ahead, and shadows poured down around me in threatening veils. What could be hiding in those patches of dark? What had been watching me?

He paused for a moment, throwing a glimpse over his shoulder at my face. His jaw was tight, eyes narrow. "I don't know."

"You don't know?"

"No, _Bella. _I don't know."

"Sorry." I mumbled.

"I don't need this now, Bells." He warned me, voice sharp. "Whatever that was…it was definitely _not_ human. And my nose stings, so I'm guessing it was a fiend of the bloodsucking variety. You may have been wrong to call _me, _but you were right to call for help either way. The scent of that thing is all over you. It must've gotten close."

My mouth popped open and my feet stuck to the ground. A horrible chill rattled my teeth.

He looked back at me, his eyes as black as the shadows neighboring him. When his stare met mine, his face softened just a little bit, and his hand became gentle against my skin. "Bells, we really need to keep moving. I don't know what that leech wanted from you, and I don't think we should wait to find out. There isn't much I can do to save you—to save _us—_in my human form."

I swallowed hard, noticing the distinction he had made, changing his words from "you" to "us" so it would seem as though he wasn't worried only about me. He was trying to make his feelings clear. Trying to let me know that his feelings for me _were_ clear—they were see-through. Imaginary. He was through with me.

I bit my lip.

"I'm scared." I admitted, shuffling to his side. "What would it want from me?"

"Who knows?" Jacob shrugged, voice sour. His eyes were on the ground again, away from my face. My chest hurt, the same kind of scorching ache you get after running for hours in the cold. My throat felt dry.

"And it wasn't a scent you recognized? Not…one of them?"

His hand tightened on mine, angrily. He grinded his teeth. "Nope."

My lips parted to apologize once more, a reflex, but I pushed them together again quickly. Jacob didn't care for my apologies. He just wanted to be left alone. I had to remember that.

"Where are you taking me?" I asked quietly after a moment.

"Where do you think?"

I paused, considering. Even when I'd come up with a plausible response, one that was probably exactly where he _was_ taking me, I couldn't muster the courage to say it out loud. "I don't know." I mumbled instead.

He snorted, not buying into my forged oblivion. "To him." He said.

I knew that he would say that, and that knowledge, that feeling of neglect…it cut deeper than any set of nonexistent fangs could ever have managed.

I swallowed hard, lowering my eyes to watch my feet, and let a few silent tears slide down my cheeks.

_I love you, Jacob, _I thought. But I didn't dare say it aloud.

Without even so much as a glance at my face, Jacob sighed. "Why are you crying?" He demanded, voice gruff. I didn't understand how he could possibly have known I was crying. He hadn't even looked at me, and I wasn't making any noise.

"I'm not," I tried, but my voice was obscured with tears.

He stopped in place, turning to look at me, his face exasperated. "What do you _want _from me Bella? What? Do you want me to personally rip my own heart right out of my chest and hand it over to you, let you dance on it until it's just a bloody little splotch tainting your fucking party shoes?"

"I don't have any party shoes…" I mumbled. He glared at me.

"_What_ the _hell_ do you _want_ from me?"

My chin quivered. I lowered my head, unsure if I could speak, but tried anyway. "I just want—"

A large white figure came flying out of nowhere, crashing into us with the weight of an eight-wheeler truck. Jacob smashed into a tree twenty yards away, grunting in pain. I heard a sickening crackle resound from my right arm, my other feebly trying to push the boulder off of my chest.

I was pinned to the ground.

"Get off of me!" I screeched, kicking futilely at the vampire. His cold white hands held hard to my wrists, a menacing grin on his mouth. His eyes were alive with blood and his black hair blew wildly in the breeze. He was stronger than I could ever have imagined. Stronger maybe even than Emmett. I couldn't breathe.

"Jacob," I wheezed, trying to search for him. My eyes found his body, so far from me, limp and unmoving. He seemed to be unconscious. My fingers burned for his.

The vampire above me chuckled, toying with my hair, sliding a finger past my cheek. "Well looky here," He mused, snickering with delight. "It seems I've found myself a little treat. And Bella Swan, of all people!" The joy was blatant on his face, a sadistic show of glee. His eyes lusted for my death. Tears fell down my face, seeming to make his grin grow even wider.

"Of course it will be a waste," He continued in a murmur, dripping cold fingers down my neck. "Such beautiful blood as yours is meant to be satisfying, meant to be savored. And I can't even have you. Hm…"

My eyebrows joined in confusion, my breathing rapid and loud. My ribs hurt. I wanted to scream. _Get off me! Get off! _I had no voice left.

"I'm sure they'll reward me, however. Who'd have guessed I would find you so easily? Didn't anyone ever tell you to stay away from the woods at night? Why, I'm sure _someone _must have. Edward, maybe?" His red eyes glinted with pleasure when I gasped.

Who was this person? This monster?

When my breathing quickened, I coughed a little, a horrifying pain twisting in my chest in response, and blood trickled from my mouth. I watched in terror as the vampire's eyes zeroed in on the splotch of burgundy, hunger replacing all else in his face. I screeched soundlessly as he leaned in for the kill, possessed by his need.

And then we were attacked.

He rolled away from me, a tumbleweed of white marble skin and russet fur. My eyes darted over to where Jacob had been, tracing the ground for his human body, but they saw nothing. I blinked in fear, looking back at the giant wolf as he tore away from the monster. Jacob was fighting this thing alone, and surely he could not win.

I couldn't lose Jacob. I just couldn't.

As if conjured by my terrorized thoughts, two more wolves sprung out from the shady trees, flanking Jacob on either side. One, whom I was almost positive was Leah, automatically drew in close, nipping at the cold vampire's appendage. Her teeth caught flesh, ripping away a forearm. The metallic grating sound scratched its way into my ears, and I slapped a hand over them, trying to protect my head from the noise.

I watched in a daze as the wolves finished the man off, Jacob going in for the aorta at the last second. The head plopped down by my feet, but I couldn't even move away from it. The pain was eating away at my center and shoulder, pulling me toward unconsciousness. I felt as though I might pass out.

"Go!" Jacob ordered his pack, suddenly human again. "Bring the pieces back and burn them!" His voice drifted in and out as he continued, reminding them to get each and every shred of flesh, to not leave one piece behind.

I was floating.

"Bella," He whispered above me moments later. I didn't respond. My mouth tasted of rust and salt. Blood dribbled past my chin. "Dammit, Bells." He growled fervently, brushing at my hair. So gently, he lifted me from the ground, careful not to disrupt what felt like a shattered rib and my obviously broken arm. His lips brushed mine sweetly, and I couldn't help the part of me that was alert enough to be happy about it. As much pain as I was in, this would definitely bring Jacob back to me, at least for a little while. He couldn't just leave me like this, could he?

Blinking sleepily, I smiled at him, hoping to receive a smile back. "You always did wear your birthday suit pretty nicely," I complimented with a laugh, referring to his state of undress. I could see the remaining shreds of his sweatpants lying on the ground behind him.

He rolled his eyes, smiling a little. "Stop being a weirdo," He said to me.

As my eyes slipped closed, Jacob's hand smoothed back my hair, his lips at my hairline. The waves of coma continued to lap at me, pulling me away from him. It was so hard to stay there.

"Killing me." I heard him whisper, so quietly I could have just imagined it.

And then it all faded into black.

**(author's note: **did anyone notice anything they'd like to question that happened in the beginning of this chapter??)


	35. Sorta, Maybe

**(Disclaimer-I had a dream I woke up with Jacob Black. It was hella nice.)**

_okay, so hey. long time no update, hm?  
here it is, and the 36th should be coming soon.  
GUESS WHAT!? my computer was just taken away and  
is going to be fixed so I can go online without needing to be timed  
on my mother's computer. :D it is a blessed thing, truly.  
anyway, here you are. read and leave me some nice reviews, pleaseee!_

Sorta, Maybe

When I woke, I could see the sun filtering in through a blank, clear wall, seemingly welcoming me from the far west. The sky was a dark blue toward the top of the sky, dimming into a lighter gray and opening into a startling blend of orange and pink. Through blurry eyes I could see that twilight was nearing.

"He isn't here."

I twisted my face around to the right, angling myself so that I could see him. His eyes were locked on his double fists, elbows balancing on his widely spread knees. His upper body was bent down over the lower half, doubling into himself. He looked exhausted, this beautiful russet creature.

"What?" I croaked, confused.

"I said he isn't here."

"Who? That thing that attacked us?" My voice sounded similar to that of an eighty-year-old chain smoker, like one of Marge Simpson's sisters. I tried to clear my throat, but pain lined my mouth.

Jacob snorted, humored. "You could say that. But no; I'm talking about Edward."

"Oh."

We stared at each other for a moment, my eyes blinking groggily as I watched him. I couldn't seem to fit together what he was saying in my head. Why would he be saying that, like I should automatically assume that Edward would be here? I didn't even have a clue where we were to begin with. A glance around the room told me nothing, provided me with no sense of familiarity. The walls were flat white, floor blue linoleum. One entire wall was lined with glass, allowing me to see out into the oncoming night.

Something about the room—the wall, actually, I thought—made my stomach flutter, little moths flapping their wings, but that was it. It meant nothing to me.

He looked at me, expectant. I remained silent, staring back.

"We're in his house, Bella." He told me after a moment. I raised an eyebrow, reassessing my surroundings. Still, they held no sense of acquaintance. "I'm surprised you didn't recognize it. I figured you'd have had the whole entire floor plan memorized by now." I looked away from the sour sound of his voice, staring at the ivory sheets tucked up around my chest.

"What room is this?" I whispered.

"Carlisle's spare…medicine room thing."

I nodded blankly.

Jacob waited only a moment, giving me time to say something before he continued, but I had nothing to add. He sighed. "They all just left; I guess they'll be back sometime, but the Doctor says you were good enough for me to be alone with you." He stopped to chuckle bleakly. "He thought he was doing me a favor."

I bit my lip. His eyelids were drooping. I couldn't figure out how they'd gotten him to stay here in the house to begin with. I wished I could've known what had happened when he brought me here…if he _did _bring me here. Or had Edward found us in the forest?

Jacob started story-telling before I could ask.

"Edward didn't come to our wedding, either." he said sleepily. I swallowed hard, noticing the purple bags beneath his eyes. How long had it been since he'd slept? "Before Charlie got sick…" he stopped to glance at me, searching my face for a reaction. After a moment, Jacob nodded to himself, obviously aware—from my expression, I guessed—that I knew what he was talking about. He looked back at his hands.

"Well, before he got sick…Edward sent me that invitation—you know, the one to your wedding with _him. _Its funny how he went on to say all that crap about having a choice, about how if he were in my position _he _would have wanted to have options. He sure didn't seem to want them when he _was _in my position. You didn't see him for almost three years, you know that?"

I blinked, wishing I could reach for him. My right arm felt fiery hot, the pain sharp and crooked as it worked its way from my shoulder to my wrist.

"Alice sent us a present for the engagement and all, unlike him. I think she would have gone to the ceremony if he couldn't read her mind. I guess she didn't want him to have to see it all when she got home, to give him another reason for wanting to commit suicide." Jacob shook his head, making a face. "That guy is seriously _such _a whiner. He's always threatening to kill himself. Carlisle should think about putting him on some freaking anti-depressants.…He went to the funeral, though." The words were quiet and subdued now, an attempt to block out the pain it caused him. His eyelashes were wet, I noticed with a pang. I closed my eyes, reluctant to see his face now that the pain was creeping through.

Quietly clearing his throat, he continued. "I wish you could have seen him book it out of there when he saw Junior. I was just sitting there in the front row, Junior in my arms, and then there he was. He came across to place the freesia on your casket…then he saw Junior. I've never seen him run that fast…" He drifted off there, sounding a little bit dazed. I peeked at him with one eye, taking in the fact that his eyes, too, had closed, his head dipping to the side a bit.

"Jake," I whispered, lifting my left arm to reach for him. I couldn't get it to cross over my chest without feeling like I would snap in half, though, and I let it sink back down onto the bed. My right arm, though closer to him, was also useless. "Jake, you need to sleep."

His eyes opened and he looked at me. I tried to be brave, to stare back without tearing up or looking away. "Don't worry about what I need to do." he told me coldly, pressing his face into his arm to yawn.

I nodded, wrenching my eyes from him to stare at the wall.

"Do you know who it was that attacked us?" I murmured.

Jacob snorted. "Oh, yeah Bells. We pieced him back together and asked him about it while you were sleeping." He rolled his eyes. "No."

Again, I nodded.

"Your arm is pretty screwed up," He informed me, looking at it suddenly. I glanced at it too, seeing the dark blue and black pattern on it for the first time. "Your ribs are okay, though. Bruised only." I nodded once more, having figured as much. I could feel the injuries quite clearly.

"How about you?" I inquired softly.

His eyes narrowed on my hand, irritated. "My rib is shattered—_was_ shattered, I guess. It's probably almost done healing now, or at least halfway done. That's why I'm still here. I wasn't _allowed _to leave until Carlisle _said so. _Like someone made him God or something. And no, it doesn't hurt." I blinked as he added that, shocked that he knew I would ask.

"Why did you stay, then, if you have no desire to hear what Carlisle—a professional—has to say? Why didn't you just _leave _if you're such a rebel?"

"Why didn't you just spare me the drama and stay here with your bloodsucker when you came back?" Jacob retorted, raising an eyebrow antagonistically.

With no real answer, I avoided the question, too angry to defend my emotions anyway. "Why don't you just leave, Jake?" I snapped, voice arctic cold.

Jake's eyes widened fractionally, but other than that, he barely looked surprised. "Is that a dare? _What_, you don't think I will? Believe me, Bells, I could leave this very second without so much as even one little glance back. I _don't _need to be here. There's nothing of interest for me in this room."

I froze. For one, long moment, I could do nothing but stare at him, pain thick in my chest. Not even when he'd told me he'd prefer me dead so many years ago had his words hurt me so intensely. My left arm itched to curl around my torso, but I made it stay in place, forging anger rather than pain with my words. I would not give him the satisfaction of seeing me hurt.

"Then just _do it. _If you hate me so much, just _leave._"

"Is that what you want, Bella?" He challenged, leaning forward with intense, narrowed eyes.

"And you care what I want _because? _I'm poison, right?"

Jacob snorted, standing up from the wooden chair. "'Kay then. I'll see you…well, to be perfectly honest, I hope I don't." He shrugged one shoulder, looking at me bleakly. "Poison," He repeated nonchalantly.

"Oh." I breathed, unable to say anything else. My eyes stung.

"Oh, and uh, if you need to call someone or whatever, your cell phone is to your left, on the table. But be smart and call someone _other_ than me, especially if you're expecting an answer."

"Jacob,"

The russet man in front of me jumped at the sound of Carlisle's greeting, spinning around to face him. Jake's cheeks were redder than usual, like maybe he was blushing, embarrassed to be caught using such a brutal tone. My chest felt empty of everything, my mouth free of breath.

"I was just leaving," Jacob started to explain, his voice unusually hard as he spoke to the beautiful blonde man. He normally held at least a pinch of respect in his tone when talking to Carlisle, but this time, all I could find in his words was a violent form of hatred.

I stared at them both, unable to move, unable to think, unable to even smile politely in response when Carlisle grinned at me.

"What do you mean?" He asked Jacob. I noticed that his voice was also a little hard, or at least for him. It wasn't impolite or cruel, just passive. My eyebrows linked.

"I'm _leaving._" Jacob said sharply. "Thank you for the treatment and for letting me stay here." The last line sounded a little sarcastic, but Carlisle didn't seem to catch on, or he just simply ignored it.

Carlisle smiled warmly at Jacob, bowing his head in a sincere gesture. "It's been my pleasure. I know the two of you have had your fair share of hospitals. But Jacob, really, I don't think that your injuries have healed quite yet. Why don't you stay a bit longer?"

"No thanks," Jacob muttered, stepping toward the door.

"Jacob, please." Carlisle pushed, voice a little sterner. As Jacob shook his head, reaching for the doorknob, Carlisle's eyes narrowed. "I don't want to have to get Jasper and Emmett up here, Jacob. Sit down."

Jacob froze in the doorway, staring at him wordlessly with his mouth hanging open in astonishment. I blinked.

"Now, how are you feeling, Bella?" Carlisle asked me, turning around, his voice abruptly warm again.

I snorted, shocked, and managed to smile at him. He winked at me, pointing Jacob in the direction of the chair by my bed. With Jacob dumbfounded, silent, and seated, Carlisle nodded in approval, exiting the room.

"I suppose you're not going to tell me what the heck is going on here?" I accused once we were alone.

"What're you talking about?" Jacob spat, glaring. It was obvious that he was angry he'd had to stay here with me.

I sighed. "I thought you liked Carlisle."

"I've never _liked _any of them."

"You know what I mean."

"Maybe I didn't_ mind_ him. That is, before his son killed my friend."

I gaped at him, a gasp escaping my mouth. "What are you talking about?"

Jacob chuckled darkly. "I'm talking about his son killing my friend, Bella."

He stared at me, waiting for more questions, but I just continued to stare at him, a horrified expression on my face. "Maybe twenty years ago, Jasper had his stupid friend Charlotte come up with her _beau._ They came on our land, Paul got pissed and attacked them—didn't do any damage, just scared them a bit. Jasper killed him while your filthy fucking _Edward _held me down. They killed him."

"No," I whispered, unable to believe.

Jacob gritted his teeth, eyes deadly. "_Yes, _Bells. They killed Paul, and then they killed Seth, too."

"_Seth?" _I couldn't breathe. "No, no."

Jacob chortled darkly, a vindictive glint to his eyes. "Your bloodsuckers are not as angelic as you think they are. You've always been stupid to trust them." Suddenly, as though just coming upon an idea, he stopped speaking, looking at my face with an odd expression. I stared back with a horrified, critical eye, trying to pick apart the varying emotions there on the red-brown canvas. Humor, fury, confusion…what else?

"You know what doesn't make any sense to me at all?" He asked me, shaking his head, eyebrows together. "I married you. I loved you. I gave you a child. I've saved you just as many times as your stupid Edward has, and still you love him more. He tossed you away like _trash_ Bella. He made you into something of a zombie, left you to pick up the remains of the life he took. But _I _was there to help you. I stayed with you every damn day you needed me, always working to make you happy, always walking on eggshells so that _you_ wouldn't be hurt. I saw what he'd made of you, and I—what?— stuck by you for _centuries_, giving you a friend to turn to, a safe harbor to run to when you were sad? Is that really so bad?

"I loved you no matter how much you fucking hurt me, always wishing that you would see how much better I was for you. When he left, I provided you with the ingredients you needed to feel like he was with you again—the danger, the adrenaline, the stupidity. Yeah, don't think that I was so oblivious I didn't realize what you were doing Bella. People don't just randomly develop a taste for danger after living a life of loving safety. I knew you were using me, and _still_ I stayed with you. And yes, that was my choice. Yeah, I paved that road for myself, disregarded the hurt it was causing me. But I _loved _you. I gave you all of me, took nothing in return, and never once set out to hurt you. The most I've done is utter a few fucking regrettable words, avoid you for maybe a week because I actually _couldn't _be near you. He left you alone to _rot. _So why the hell do you love _him, _dammit?"

He plucked a vase from the table beside him, flinging it across the room so it shattered against the plain white wall. I flinched.

"I love you," I breathed, but it didn't make any noise.

"You don't. You fucking don't." He slung a hand over his face, falling against the side of my bed. My face crumpled, lips trembling. "He killed my friends, Bella. He tried to sympathize with me, tried to tell me that they were _sorry. _Edward said he held me down for my own _safety._ That he made me watch as his brother killed my friends so I wouldn't _get hurt._ You know what _I _think? I think he just didn't want _me _to hurt his son-of-a-bitch _brother. _The stupid coward. He's a murderer. A _murderer, _Bella." He was sobbing.

"Jacob," I lifted my left arm, trying to sit up so I could get to him. Pain rattled my teeth, rocketing through my chest. Through the window-wall I saw a white figure blur by, heading for the trees. Copper hair blew atop his head.

Edward. He'd heard all of it. Every word that I'd tried to avoid, that I'd tried not to speak because I knew that they would hurt him most of all…He'd heard, and now he was leaving. Where would he go?

I gulped.

"Jacob," I said again, a little louder, lifting my torso off the bed. The pain of the action made me flinch, an unintentional moan escaping my lips.

"Stop that, you stupid…stupid…" He gave up on hurtful nouns and adjectives, coming around to press me back onto the bed so I couldn't hurt myself.

"Jacob, I'm so sorry. I never meant to hurt you…you know that."

"Fuck you." He growled, ripping away from my grasping hands.

My mouth fell slack, my eyes brimming with tears. A gasp whooshed out of my mouth. He'd never said anything so viciously before.

From where he stood a foot away, I saw his eyes soften, his mouth twitching in reluctant remorse. Then he stepped closer, sighing. "Dammit, Bella. I'm sorry." He groaned quietly in frustration, grabbing my frozen fingers. "You're so annoying, you know that? I can't get you to leave me alone without wanting to kill myself for hurting you."

I chuckled through tears, consumed with guilt, but also seeing the irony in the situation. Normally it would have been _me_ calling _him _annoying. Still, I should have just left him alone, let him be happy without me. But it seemed as though maybe I would never be able to be that selfless. There would always be a piece of me that longed to get my way, to have Jacob whether it hurt him or not. "I'm prepared to be annoyingly persistent." I said to him, quoting his words from an earlier time. He gawked at me, astonished that I'd remember such a thing.

And then, beautifully, he smiled. "What am I going to do with you?" he said, tears on his face.

"Give me time to make it up to you. Be with me, even if only as friends. Just please don't desert me."

He sighed. "I guess I could give you that." he allowed, sounding a little reluctant. "I really did miss you, Bells. Sorry for acting like a jerk."

"You had reason enough. I'm sorry, too."

"Yeah… I _did _have reasons. But if you mean it—if you're not going to hop on the next murdering bloodsucker you see—I'll try, Bells. But I'm not making you any guarantees. I'm only holding lightly to the clutch, and I'm not going to jump right back into trusting you. You understand that, right?"

I nodded, understanding completely the motorcycle analogy he threw to me.

As I stared at him, cherishing the sad upward tilt of his lips, the red tone of his skin, the long wiry muscles of his arms, he watched me. His eyes were black and attentive, contracting with the direction of his thoughts. He was absolutely gorgeous.

"What?" He asked when I smiled hugely.

I bit my lip, fighting the lunatic laughter in my mouth. "Did you know, you're sort of beautiful?"

His eyes lit up, beaming. Surely he remembered this, but rather than repeat his line, he stood up from the floor, crossing the space between us, and brushed a hand down over my face. "Did you know you sort of are, too?"

And then he kissed me.


	36. Composure

**(Disclaimer- I'm really starting to loathe disclaimers.)**

_another long-time-no-update. sorry about that. i wrote this chapter at least twenty different times  
and in twenty entirely different ways. I even showed my friend, who will know who she is when she reads this,  
a draft of this chapter. as she will probably see, it is not the same chapter at all. but i think that i came away with  
a better one in the end. --let's hope, anyway.  
ahhh, well, i'm rather tired, seeing as it is currently 2am, so i'll make this short.  
just please read and review, because otherwise, what is the point of me putting this on here, right? :D_

Composure

Carlisle drove us home in the rain just two days later. My ribs were black and blue, as well as my heart, and my arm was suspended in an off-white sling. Jacob sat beside me in the back of the Mercedes, his warm fingers heating up my neck. All was silent.

He had wanted to run and retrieve his own car, insisting that he didn't need the help of any stupid bloodsuckers, but I wouldn't let him. Though he thought it was stupid and made a point of telling me so, I had told him that I was afraid of being without him. I hadn't particularly lied, really, but the bigger reason for my protest was that I didn't want him getting hurt again. He had just healed from the break in his ribs. What if he ran into another vampire on the way? Who could say that his friends would be there to help him this time? Who could promise that he would come back to me?

I shivered under his hand, chilled by the thought.

"Goodbye, Bella." Carlisle murmured somberly as Jacob helped me out of the car. I pursed my lips, looking back at the beautiful blonde man, wishing that I could help him. Ever since Edward had stormed away that night when I saw him through the glass, the Cullen family was silent and sober. Even Alice and Emmett, the family clowns, were hushed.

Because he hadn't come back. He hadn't even called.

A thick boulder in my chest wobbled, drawing attention to the guilt it contained. I knew that it was my fault for this absence, for the fact that Edward had gone away to begin with. And though Esme had quietly urged me not to think of it in that way, I was sure that, secretly, they all knew who was responsible for tearing their family apart. Every one of them knew that it was me, and maybe they hated me for it. I sure did.

After saying goodbye, I stood there on the lawn, rain and gloomy darkness filtering in all around me. I watched as the headlights of the sleek automobile turned away, disappearing into the night, and felt as though a piece of me vanished, too. The only thing that held me into place was the unflagging sun beside me, the only bright piece of this dreary scene. When I peered up at him, he smiled a dead half-smile and led me into the house.

Junior was waiting on the couch.

"Hey," he huffed nonchalantly, throwing us a lazy crooked grin. I tried to work a smile to my lips for him, but he didn't buy it. Instead, he raised a dubious brow. "Well aren't you two just chipper?" he muttered, standing. "There's food on the table. I thought you guys might be hungry."

"No thanks," Jake said quickly, grimacing. I looked up at him curiously, confused about his answer. He had to be hungry; the portions that the Cullen family made were very small—but then again, who could blame them for that? They didn't know.

"What? Why not?" Junior seemed just as shocked as I was, his eyebrows meeting.

"You're not so good of a chef." Jake replied, reaching for the phone. "I'll order pizza."

"Hey, hey! Hold up a minute. I didn't make it. Jenna did."

My eyebrows went up on my face, surprised. "Jenna?"

Slowly, hearing the impressed tone in my voice, Junior's face lit with a grin. "Mhm. And she's good."

We ate the food, a little reluctantly at first, but the aversion quickly transformed into awe. It was great. She had made us each a plate of potatoes, corn, and roast beef, topped off with a warm bun and some cola. Junior leaned against the sink and watched as we ravaged the rations, choking them down as though we hadn't eaten in months.

When we finished, he loosed a cocky grin. "_See?"_

Jake wadded up his napkin and chucked it him. "Marry her."

The rest of the night went a little like that—Junior acting as our entertainment, Jake and I both laughing and smiling along—but the smiles were just on the surface. Inside, the piece of me I hid from them was stinging furiously. There were too many emotions in my chest, too many contradictory shouts on my tongue. I had no idea how to behave, what to think.

For one, I was being careful. I didn't know just _how_ careful to be, though, so it caused a problem. If I tried too hard and was overly cautious, Jacob might suspect that I was lying about wanting to be with him. Why else would it be so awkward? Shouldn't I have been able to slip back into my old routine with him as though nothing had changed? Because nothing _had _changed. I'd always wanted him. So of course he would be suspicious if I wasn't acting comfortable here. And if I didn't try enough, if I let the pain flow freely, he would see also that I felt bad for the Cullens, that I worried about Edward. And again, he would suspect.

What was I supposed to do?

Jacob brushed a finger along my arm suddenly, making me flinch in surprise. Glancing up at him, I saw his worried expression, the way that the lids were tight around his black eyes, concealing some emotion he didn't want me to see. I could guess what it was.

"What?" I asked, a little self-conscious. I tried to feel my face from the inside out, to know what it was that he was looking at. It felt cold and dazed. Hopefully that was all it looked like to him.

"You're zoning."

"Oh." I sighed in relief, my tense shoulders relaxing.

He sat beside me.

"You know what?" he asked me suddenly after a moment. I looked at him, my eyebrows furrowing.

"No, what?"

"I'm a jerk."

This wasn't anything like what I'd been expecting. I'd thought maybe he would say something about how horrible the Cullens were…or at least something along those lines. So when he said these three words, I couldn't help but snort in shock.

He shot me a funny look. "What're you laughing about?"

Ducking my head, I mumbled an apology. "Sorry. Nothing. What're you _talking _about?"

"Me being a jerk." Grabbing my hand, Jacob held my palm to his face. "I made you a promise a long time ago, Bella, and I broke it. I said I'd never hurt you, that I would always be here if you needed me. But I wasn't. I left you out in the rain to get lost in the woods. And now look at you!" He gestured toward my injuries with his free hand. "You're all banged up, and it's my fault. I'm sorry. I've been a horrible friend."

I shook my head, laughing nervously. "Stop being melodramatic. You're here with me now, and I started it to begin with—"

"No. I knew how it would be with you way back then, that you would always want him. I shouldn't have expected a change."

"Jake. Shut up."

I kissed him, maybe just to get him off of the subject, and maybe also because his face looked beautiful in the dim lighting from the kitchen. Everything around him had faded into the dark, so only his self-criticizing face was illuminated before me.

I couldn't help myself.

My breathing accelerated, my heartbeat thumping in my chest, as he wound his arms around my tender waist. His lips were magic against mine, but I pressed my good hand to his chest, denying the craving in my stomach and pushing him away. Junior was most likely in the next room, and with his hypersensitive hearing, I was feeling very self-conscious and exposed.

Jacob shot me a disgruntled look, furrowing his brows and pouting his lips.

I wanted to say something, to explain why I needed to stop, but I didn't want Junior to hear _that, _either. I sat for a moment staring at him with my lips pursed, trying to think of some way to explain without speaking.

Just as I thought to point to Junior's door, Jacob's eyes lit with understanding and he chuckled in amused relief.

"The Kid went to see Jenna a little while ago—while you were in your trance." he explained to me with a wicked grin, bending in closer for another kiss.

"Oh," I mumbled against his lips.

He leaned into me, his huge body towering over mine like the beanstalk towered over Jack. For a moment I was only able to stare at him as he kissed at my face, paralyzed by the abrupt explosion in my head. I was so absolutely disgusting—in _so _many ways. Here I was, kissing Jacob, and feeling guilty about Edward. The only thing on my mind while kissing this beautiful man should have been…well, this beautiful man. But then again, Edward could have been halfway to the Volturi—or worse, he could have been there begging for a death sentence.

Or he could have _gotten _his death sentence.

I froze, a gasp escaping my mouth, and pushed Jacob with so much force that I actually moved him back an inch. In response, he rolled away from me in shock, landing on the thinly carpeted floor with a loud thud. He was back on his feet in less than a second though, grabbing at my immobile shoulders with an intense expression.

"What the hell, Bells?"

Atonements filled my mouth, but it wouldn't open. My teeth were clenched, trying to swallow the possibility that Edward could have been dead.

_That Edward could have been _dead.

I was hyperventilating.

"Bella! Bella? Hey, do you need to go see Carlisle again? Is it your arm? Your ribs? _Bella!"_

"Holy crow," I whispered, wrapping my one good arm around my aching chest. The bruises were making themselves known, and I could feel the pain from the top of my neck to the bottom of my torso. My eyes closed, trying to block out the pain.

It wasn't smart to do that.

"Bella!" Jacob shouted, pulling me to him. Apparently he hadn't known I'd closed my eyes intentionally, thinking instead that I'd passed out or worse. I shook my head against his chest, leaning away again despite the burning ribs.

"I'm okay, I'm okay," I huffed.

"What the heck just happened?"

"I just had a bit of…Jake," I'd begun to say 'a bit of an episode,' but I'd lost the thought somewhere in the middle, deciding instead to tell Jacob what was really bothering me. The second his name was out of my mouth, though, I lost the valor and shut my mouth again, unable to speak.

"You had a bit of Jake? What?"

I shook my head, eyebrows furrowing.

"What, was that too _much _Jake? Was I coming on too strong? Bella?"

I'd closed my eyes again. "No, Jacob. You…came on just fine. It wasn't that."

"Well then what is the…" Jacob's voice drifted, entering a tunnel. Then he inhaled sharply. "Oh."

I peeked at him, hiding the lower half of my face with the bottom of my shirt sleeve. I could see the dawn in his eyes, the reluctant comprehension, and bit my lip where he couldn't see. I didn't need any more cataclysms, but I wondered if that would be exactly what I'd get from him in response.

"Oh." Jacob said again. And that was it.

A long moment passed as I waited for him to continue, but still there was nothing. Finally, I couldn't take it. I needed to know if this was the extent of it or not. Was he angry, was he sad? His face was a blank canvas to my eyes. "Oh?" I prompted.

"You think he's gone on another suicide mission?" He wondered calmly.

My lips pursed, the sleeve—as well as my arm—back down on my lap, and my eyebrows met. I knew he would hear the increasing tempo of my breath, but I couldn't slow it. Edward could be dead. Edward could be _gone._

Jacob nodded. "We'll call the Cullens," he decided. His voice was unwavering and composed; his tone held no hostility at all, not even when it hit the last word. Impressed, I squeezed his hand, smiling a teensy smile of gratitude, but I knew that there was more he wasn't showing me. And for the moment, I was _glad_ he hid it, but that momentary relief soon wore off with his next words, replaced by suspicion.

"Oh, and while we're at it, you should probably make another call, too."

I cocked a brow. Who else would we possibly call?

But before I could ask, he had already dialed the phone.


	37. Promise Rings

**(Disclaimer- _reeeally _starting to loathe them.)**

_bonjour. here we go with another new one. yay for me. and i am purposely  
not telling you whose point of view this is. don't freak out about it and spend your time  
thinking about who it could be. just read it. the chapter makes it pretty clear.  
:) i did this because...well, i think its fun to torture people. and also because the third paragraph  
kind of gives it away. so just read and review, please. :D thanksss._

Promise "Rings"

"What?" The word was perhaps a little more irritated and sharp than I'd intended when I pulled open the door, but I didn't waste time with apologies.

The officer before me cleared his throat, shuffling his feet in an awkward motion, his fist still raised in the air as if to knock again. I was sure that he noticed the bags under my eyes as he studied me, and I wished that he would just go back to the station. Waiting for him to speak, I placed a hand on my opposite forearm, fighting an imaginary chill.

"I'm here on the account of your…er, runaway child, Ma'am." He mumbled almost unintelligibly. His badge posted the name _Davis, _and I could tell that he was new. I'd never seen him before, which was surprising to me. I'd thought I'd become fairly well acquainted with each and every one of the town's policemen in these past months, but he was not one I could remember. Therefore, I concluded, he must have been new.

This would, of course, be obnoxiously difficult for me. I did not want to have to clue him in on every single detail. The station better have done a good job in explaining to him this case. Otherwise, I would wring his scrawny red neck.

"Missing, you mean." I corrected.

"Huh?"

"Missing—she's missing. You can't possibly know that she's run away. Not really, anyway. Not intentionally."

His eyebrows hooked above his crooked nose. They were graying. "Intentionally?" he repeated, confused. "Ma'am, she bashed in the face of her caseworker! I mean, well, she—she physically assaulted someone. Are you meaning to tell me that she did so…unintentionally?"

I pursed my lips, irritated. "Is it certain that she did that to the Shrink in the first place? How do you know that she wasn't merely set up? That happens. People do it all the time. Perhaps this _caseworker _had something against my daughter—jealousy? her _own _insanity?—and did that all to herself."

Officer Davis cocked one brow, dubious. "I'm sorry, Ma'am. I realize that this is hard for you, but you can't honestly believe that the woman would have gone to such extreme measures…Have you seen the pictures? There was blood all over the place—"

"Yes, yes. I saw, yes." I grumbled quickly, cutting him off. I didn't care about the stupid pictures. They proved nothing.

"What could possibly have made Mrs.…. Miss…" He sighed, giving up on formality. "Why in the world would Carol have done this to herself? For what reason? _Why?"_

I bit my lip. Yes, this was the question, always the question. I refused to believe that my daughter, my Annabelle, whom I had given _life_ to, had run away from me. Could she possibly hate me that much? Because there was nothing—_nothing. _No phone call, no mysteriously elusive notes, no emails on the net…not one thing.

I couldn't believe that she would leave me like that, without so much as even one single word_, _even if I _did _deserve it_. _But yet why would she have been set up then? _Why? _

I had no answer for that.

"Ma'am?" The man hummed uncertainly. I forced my staring eyes to focus and saw that his sights were set worriedly on my hand. I looked at it, noticing the way that it was suddenly gripping the doorframe, supporting the swaying body it belonged to. "Are you—?"

"I'm fine." I snapped. And then, a wave of exhaustion pulling over me, I turned on my heels and headed for the couch, not bothering to invite him in. I noticed as I sat down on the soft ivory cushion that he had followed me in anyway, though.

The conversation was kept generally short, though still too long for me, and proved to be entirely stale. It was just another irrelevant discourse in a line of useless powwows. Another heart-to-heart with all the same murmured words and gestures, providing no leads and no conclusion. It was pointless, just as always, and I hated every single minute of it.

Thankfully about a half hour later we said our adieus, my face lit dimly with a forged appreciation. I smiled blandly as he stood in the doorway, sympathy scribbled all over his face. The policeman named Davis shook my hand, asking me to send his regards to my husband, and finally trudged out through the cheerless Texan sunshine, escaping in his cruiser. I glared after the white vehicle, wanting to throw something at it. What good were the police if they couldn't even find a missing nineteen-year-old girl?

The phone rang as I shut the door.

Knowing who it would be and what he'd want to know, I moved sluggishly through the parlor, in no rush to get to the kitchen. Every day about this time, on his way home from work, my husband would call for updates, and every day I remained unsuccessful in providing him with any news.

"Hello," I sighed dully into the receiver, picking it up on the fifth ring.

There was no reply but a subtle breath. I cocked a brow, saying it again.

Nothing.

My heart thumped with sudden hope. "Hello?" I repeated.

I waited a moment, listening, the tears welling in my tired eyes. Could I really say what I was thinking? Could I give in to the selfish craving, the foolish hope, and force myself to whisper her name? Would she answer? Was it her?

My hands shook.

"…Mom," The word was a sigh, trembling and barely audible, afraid.

I sobbed into the plastic phone, unable to control the overwhelming emotion inside of me. With that one whispered word my entire being gave way to the sky, releasing my poor mother's heart from the stabbing pain it had endured. This was my reunion, my baby.

"Honey, oh honey. Oh, are you alright? Are you okay? Where are you? Please. Oh, please baby talk to me." I couldn't stop myself. I was blubbering.

"I'm okay." She whispered—_Anna _whispered. My Anna. I heard her sniffle. "I'm okay."

"Where are you? Where have you been? What happened? Please, Anna." I couldn't see, but while I was speaking I heard the door open. At first, my husband's footsteps fell in quickly from the hall, alarmed by my violent sobbing, but then, as he heard me utter the last word, he slowed, his mouth loosing a gasp.

Anna. _Anna_.

I listened as he dropped to his knees. His suitcase hit the linoleum with a vibration of shouts.

"I'm…I'm safe, Mom."

"Oh, honey, _where?!"_ I tried to wipe at the moisture on my face, my neck, my shirt, but it just kept coming back.

"I…I don't want…" She sighed, reluctant and sad. "I'm safe and I'm well and I love you. Tell Dad that I—"

I thrust the phone at him, angling it so that both of us could hear at once.

"Anna? Anna?!" he cried.

There was silence on the other end for a long moment. At the very second that my heart began to drop in despair, I heard her sniffle again. And then there was a man's voice on the other end of the line, low and soothing, encouraging and urgent. What was he telling her? I couldn't hear! Was he her captor? What was he doing to her?

There was a sigh. "Dad?"

"Anna," he choked out, squeezing my hand. "Anna. I love you. It's going to be alright, you hear me? I swear it. Can he hear us? Is he listening?"

"Is that why you won't tell me where you are?" I threw in almost incomprehensibly.

"What?" Her tone was full of confusion. "Who?"

"That man. We can hear him in the background. Who is that man, Anna? Who is he? Did he hurt you?"

"I'll kill him!" My husband growled vehemently through tears.

Again, there was a pause, and we waited in horrified, furious silence for what seemed like forever. Our hands were clasped so tightly together that both sets of knuckles had turned milk white, his wedding ring cutting into my flesh.

My head spun with wild thoughts: he hurt her. He touched her. He hit her. He stabbed her. He raped her. He stole her.

_He'll kill her._

My breath caught in my throat.

And then she started laughing.

"_What?!" _she chortled. "Mom! No, mom. I'm safe and I'm _happy. _I promise. Please don't think like that. Jacob would never hurt me, you need to believe that."

I blinked in surprise. "Jacob?"

The name was so familiar, like I'd heard it before…because I _had _heard it before, I realized. _Jacob_, the name she had screamed in her sleep for an entire year, the one she had cried every morning until I ran in to console her.

Jacob. Imaginary, hallucinatory Jacob. My God. Oh my God. What a fool I'd been. He was real. He was _real. _And I hadn't been listening. I hadn't believed.

Or was she truly insane, being taken advantage of by some strange man who saw an opportunity in her frail mind?

My head revolved. I didn't know what to think.

"Anna…" I started, voice hesitant, forewarning. "Anna, baby, you need to tell us where you are, you hear me? Just tell us. _Please. _Don't—"

"I can't."

"The hell you can't!" My husband stormed, making me flinch. "Did he tell you that? That son of a bitch! I'll rip his throat out and—"

"No, no! Stop! I didn't mean it like that. I don't _want to." _She sniveled defensively. "Stop blaming Jacob!"

I sucked in a deep breath, trying to calm myself and to swallow down a sob. My husband pushed away in frustration, slapping a hand to his face and leaving me to pace around the room. I watched him, seeing how defeated he looked, knowing that I looked the same. "Why?" I managed to say, closing my eyes weakly. "Why?"

"Because."

"Anna, the police are looking everywhere for you. You need to—"

"I know, I know!" She moaned desperately, frazzled. "Crap. You cannot tell them that I called, Mom. You can't. You have to promise me that you won't. I called you so you wouldn't worry, so you would know that I love you. Don't tell them. You know what they would do! They would just lock me back up in that…that _prison! _I couldn't take it, Mom. Please, please don't…" By the time she was done her voice had risen three octaves, her breath reaching hyperventilation. I bit my lip, eyebrows furrowed.

And then _he _spoke. I blinked in shock at the sound of the man's voice again, the caring cadence he used when speaking to my child. "It's okay. Hey, listen to me, it's alright. They won't put you back, honey. I won't allow it—not ever. Okay? Calm now, calm." I heard the words so clearly, so…concretely. This was Jacob.

This was Jacob?

I made myself breathe.

"I won't tell them." I promised, shaking my head. "Of course I won't tell them. Of course. Oh Anna, I love you. You know that, right? I didn't mean to do this to you. It's all my fault. I'm so sorry. I should have listened. I should have been a better mother. I didn't know what to do…" I laid my head down in my hand, sinking into myself as the desperation took over. Sad tears rolled down my face. When would I see her again? I needed to control myself. "Please keep calling. Every day, alright? Promise?"

Anna's father stared in incredulity, eyes marked with sadness.

"Yes, Mom, I'll call. I will. I swear. It isn't your fault." she lied. "But I have to go now. I'm sorry. I love you—both of you. Don't tell,"

The phone clicked on the other end and she was gone, leaving me to my tears and, later, the monotone voice of the operator. With a black and blue heart, I finally dragged my hand from my face to press the end button.

My husband, my best friend, wound his sympathetic arms around my shoulders, pulling me against him while our tears fell. "It's alright," he whispered to me, again and again. "It's alright." But I could only hear the screaming words inside my head.

'_This is all my fault.'_

I had to make it better.


	38. Superhuman Talk

**(Disclaimer-i keep jacob black locked up in my closet in his boy shorts.)**

_hey there. so uh, the title for this one is lacking much. it only SORT of works for this chapter.  
but whatever. i'm in no mood to care. so annyway, i wish for you to like this chapter. :) my story is  
getting closer to the ending. not much....sadly. i really hope that none of you are opposed to long fanfictions.  
i'm so horrible when it comes to doing things quickly. sigh. oh well.  
read and review. and thank you. :)_

Superhuman Talk

"Junior, just _go. _I'll be fine." I pushed my son hard against the back, trying to move him through the doorframe with my one arm. He spun around on me, quick and graceful, and caught my hands in his own. When he did so, I could feel it. I could _feel _that he was mine. It was as though with that one little touch he had ripped open his veins and shown me the blood running through them—my blood.

I blinked a pair of wide eyes.

"Bella…" He started, but then he caught himself, switching over to _'mom.' _Maybe it should have bothered me, but it didn't. Actually, I was absurdly delighted by the fact that he'd called me by my first name. After all, I'd called Charlie by _his _first name, too. This was just another thing that I had in common with my kid. It thrilled me. "What if one of those parasites comes after you again—and I'm not _here?_ Dad would rip me to shreds if I was that irresponsible with you."

I snorted, amused. "Isn't this just a little bit backwards? _You're_ not responsible for _me_."

"Yeah, yeah, parental privileges. But look at it this way: You're slow, weak, and teensy—no offense—and you're human. I'm none of those things. I'm fast and my hearing is better, I can actually protect myself _and_ you, and I can run you out of here if anything comes. Without tripping."

"Was it necessary to add that on there?"

He grinned. "S'pose not. But it's true, nonetheless."

I sighed. "Nothing will come. And even if something _does, _you'll only be in the garage. And with all your _superhuman_ powers—the hearing, sense of smell, the incredible speed—you'll be able to run over and protect me. _Right?"_

"Well…" He bit his lip, debating. I could tell by looking at his eyes that what I was saying was making sense, which was good, because I needed some time alone.

"Come on, Spidey," I encouraged.

"Spidey?"

"Sorry. It's just all the superhuman talk…I guess it's getting to me."

Junior chortled, rousing my hair. "You know, I kind of like you. You're cooler than I thought you'd be. Even if you are an albino."

Glaring, I pushed his hand away. "Enough! Go outside. Jenna's waiting."

As he laughed, he bent down to crush me in a hug before he turned and went out the front door, meeting his little blonde cherub with a cheery smile that belonged to his father. I sighed happily, watching them.

Walking over to the couch, a strange beeping noise sounded from my leg, and a vibration on my hip made me jump. "Holy crow!" I gasped, pulling the phone out of my pants' pocket. "Eh, hello?" I said into the little holes on the bottom a little warily.

Nothing happened.

I panicked. Could my mother have gotten the number? She'd promised not to tell the police, not to give me away, but would she stay true to that promise? Or could this possibly be the Texan officers now, tracing a call back to Jacob's house in La Push…or even on their way here?

My breathing picked up as I looked at the screen.

And then, with a relieved sigh, I saw that it was only a text message.

From Kyle.

_I want to see you, _it said. I made a face, replying with the excuse of having to stay home and cook. It was lame, but I could think of nothing else, and I couldn't possibly say the truth: that I was being hunted by murderous vampires, babysat by my two-hundred-year-old son, and also that I simply didn't ever want to see him again. Especially since I was using his phone to do it.

_Cooking?_ he texted back.

Pursing my lips, I typed back "yes."

_I don't see you cooking._

The words on the screen made me gasp, my legs automatically flinging me in a circle, my eyes scanning the windows. Was it a joke? Was he trying to scare me? Certainly he couldn't see me. No, of course he couldn't. Junior would smell him if he was anywhere near.

I blinked, realizing abruptly that I was wrong. If Jacob hadn't been able to smell him in the meadow, Junior definitely wouldn't be able to smell him either. My good hand curled around the phone, pressing too many buttons at once. The phone screeched at me in response.

_What are you talking about? _I typed when I finally regained the ability to move.

_Come outside, _It said.

I blanched. _Where are you?_ My fingers were shaking.

_Come on, Bella Swan._

A cold sensation rippled down over my shoulders, shaking me. My teeth chattered with the sudden chill, my heart thumping rapidly against the cage of ribs. I couldn't breathe, I couldn't feel my legs. He shouldn't know that name. He couldn't know that name.

A white hand came out from behind me, seemingly from no particular place at all, clasping down over my mouth. The scream in my throat came out jumbled and obscured, more like a discombobulated cough than anything else. Junior wouldn't suspect a thing.

My right leg kicked back instinctively like a horse in distress, aiming wildly at my attacker. Another hand caught my ankle before I could inflict any harm, though, and I whimpered pathetically behind a pale palm as it tightened on my skin.

"I won't hurt you," A voice whispered beside my ear. Tears fell down my face and onto the flesh of my attacker. Where was Junior? Couldn't he smell it? The skin of it was cold, a vampire. What had happened? Had Junior been attacked first? Had he been killed?

"Where is Junior?" I sobbed into the hand.

"Your son?"

I cried harder, nodding.

"He's fine. Don't worry, Bella. I won't hurt any of you, I promise. I love you,"

The hand removed itself from my mouth softly, reattaching to my good upper arm. And then Kyle turned me so I was facing him. I stared at him with wild eyes, terrified and shaking, as he blinked in affection.

"You have to come with me." He said.

I shook my head, yanking myself backwards. His skin wasn't hard, I realized, and it was beginning to warm. He wasn't a vampire, probably, but what could he be? What did he want? My wriggling did nothing to help me. If anything, it just made him grip me even tighter.

"Come on, sweetie. I _don't _want to hurt you. But you have to come with me, Bella. You've gotta come, otherwise…well, I'll be in trouble."

"Trouble?" I breathed, my eyebrows pressing together. "With who?"

I needed to find a way away from him, to think of an excuse for him to let me go. My eyes slid inconspicuously downward, measuring the distance between his lower half and my feet. Maybe if I could swing my leg just right…I could hit him where it counts.

"Oh, come on, Bella. That wouldn't nice. Don't try that." he said suddenly, watching me, his body stretching farther away while his hand stayed in place. I bit my lip in terror. How could he have known? "I told you I'm not going to hurt you. You just have to cooperate. Really. You don't need to be afraid of me. I'd never let anything hurt you—not ever. I've never felt this way about anyone else…" His eyes went soft then, lingering on my mouth, and his face fell forward.

I turned my head as his mouth rushed closer, and he wound up kissing my ear.

Kyle sighed, his light blue eyes disapproving. "It's okay," he said. "I understand why you won't let me. But you'll see how good we are together, sweetie. You will."

And then he was dragging me toward the back door.

"No!" I started to protest, but his hand found my mouth again, his other arm crushing my battered ribs.

"You've got to be quiet now," he told me. "You're in danger. The world isn't as safe as it seems to be," When he spoke those last words, his voice was wondering. I parted my lips to ask him what he was talking about, how he knew, but the words made no sound behind his skin.

He pulled me through the trees on the side of the house opposite the garage, his arm pulled under my knees so my legs were wrapped around it, my back against his chest. At first I hadn't understood why he'd picked me up like this, but then as he started heading for a waiting car, I figured it out. I thrashed my legs as hard as I could, trying to get someone's attention, but my legs could no longer reach anything to make a racket, and my words were still inaudible.

So I bit his thumb.

"Ouch, dammit!" he gasped, dropping me from high above the ground. I hit the fallen leaves with a loud thud, my mouth, full of his blood, automatically opening to scream. When I did, the sound was so piercing and shrill that Kyle paused mid-bend and covered his ears, his face crunching up in pain. "Shut up!" he growled, reaching for me.

His blood was making me dizzy. I spit it out on the ground, making as much noise as I could in the process, crawling crazily on my knees toward the direction of the little red home. "Junior!" I shouted. "Jacob!"

But Jacob was out with the wolves, protecting the land. Would he hear me? Would anyone hear me?

Kyle's fingers found my leg and he dragged me toward him, rocks and branches scratching painfully at my stomach. I gripped the bottom of a small trunk, ripping my broken arm from its sling to use that hand, too. The ache hit me with so much force that I froze for a minute, my black and blue skin twitching in agony.

"Dammit, Bella," he grunted. "I really hope you don't die."

And then, just like that, he let go. I looked back in surprise, only to see him dashing to the waiting car as though he were being chased by a cheetah. My eyes felt frozen as I stared at him. I couldn't even blink.

Two warm hands found mine softly, and I forced my head to face the other direction so I could see. At first, all I could make out was the russet skin, the way the dirt covered the fingers thinly as though they'd been running on all fours…

"Jacob?" I croaked through the pain.

He nodded at me, ducking down to kiss at my cheek. "'S okay, Bells. Everything is fine. He can't get you anymore. Shh."

My eyebrows met in confusion, but then I realized that I was bawling. Loudly.

"I'm so sorry! I couldn't smell him…and she told me to leave her in there! I was only in the garage… oh man! I'm so sorry!" Junior was saying in a rush, his voice thick with panic and remorse.

"I'm not blaming you, Junior. I didn't smell him, either. Cut out the rambling and help me get her up." Jacob touched my broken arm sweetly, caressing it back into the sling. "You shouldn't have taken this off, Bella." he told me.

My lips were shaking. My face was wet. He kissed me.

They each grabbed me, Junior taking my legs while Jake took hold of everything else, and carried me back to the house. I was barely aware of the continuous apologizing and hushing that was going on. My head was full of questions and my breath was coming quick. I was on the verge of a panic attack.

When I was safely seated on the couch, half on Jacob's lap and half off, with Junior carrying over every possible thing I could ever want or need—tea, water, crackers, blankets, warm washcloths—I turned my face into Jacob's stomach and silently cried.

"It's okay, honey." he consoled me, simultaneously smoothing my hair and smacking Junior as he tried to put a pillow beneath my head. "Get that away from her," he snapped at him in a somehow peaceful tone.

"It's just a pillow," Junior defended, making a face.

"She doesn't need a pillow. She's got me. Go in your room."

Pouting, Junior slinked off down the little hallway, muttering something about parental privileges again.

"Bella. There's something you should know." Jacob told me hesitantly when the door in the hallway was shut. I didn't see the point in his waiting for Junior to be in his room to speak, seeing as he could hear everything anyway, but I didn't ask. Instead, I looked at him curiously, my eyelashes wet.

"What?" I mumbled, voice strange.

"Well, I need to know you're not going to pass out on me or anything first—not that I would mind much. Pretty girls draped over my lap have never really bothered me before. Well, _this_ pretty girl, anyway." He grinned at me and I raised an eyebrow, mocking his efforts to make the situation light. I knew that whatever he had to tell me was bad—horrifying, even. He shouldn't be trying to make light of it.

"Quit dancing around the subject and tell me, Jake,"

"Dancing?" he repeated. I glared at him. "Alright, alright. Well, we've got a bit of a problem."

"_Yes?"_ I prompted.

"A vampire problem." He paused, staring me dead in the eyes, watching my reaction. My heartbeat accelerated slightly, but other than that, I remained pretty calm. Until his next words, that is:

"The Volturi have come to town."

**_(author's note: singin' i loooove junior black. so put another growl in the werewolf baby! ... thats just me being stupid and making "i love rock and roll" into a junior song. bye now. :D)_**


	39. Ashes to Ashes, Dust to Dust

**(disclaimer- i don't own anything. i wish i did.)**

_i'll be honest and say what i'm thinking. i am entirely bored with this story, beginning to consider the leap from  
the cliffside and just call it quits here. my chapters no longer inspire in me any kind of pride, and every time that  
i reread them i'm more and more disgusted. so i'm just warning you all that this may be the end of it.  
it hasn't been decided yet, but its just somewhat of a forewarning, so you won't be upset or too shocked if i just  
randomly say goodbye to this fanfiction and trash it. but whatever. here's another chapter. review it, if you like._

Ashes to Ashes, Dust to Dust

_Everything had an echo. The trees, the wind, my heart, his voice. _

_Echo, echo, echo…_

_So much pain in my chest, so much moisture in my eyes._

_Echo._

_The silver wind danced up and into his hair, blowing strands of copper into beautiful liquid eyes. I felt so light. I was floating in the air with the most beautiful creature, suspended above all logic, all reasoning, tucked away in a beautiful dream._

_His lips were cool and hard, wondrous and pure. I was melting, I was swaying._

_The words bubbled up and into my mouth, but did not sound. They stuck there, swimming around inside of me, delicious and sweet like the scent of him._

_I love you, I love you, I love you._

_I wanted to shout it, to scream it. I wanted it to rip from my lungs like a furious demon on a flight to hell. I wanted to stomp my feet and pull my hair, throw myself at his feet and yell it._

_I love you, I need you._

_He fell away from me then, eyes blank and somehow agonized. I heard the sounds escape my mouth: the shouting, the sobbing, the pleading…_

_Echo, echo._

_They came from nowhere, ripping at him, pulling away chunk after chunk of lovely marble skin. The tearing screech of metal claws sunk into my ears with a ringing finality. My heart imploded in my chest._

_His blood, his impossible, venomous blood, splattered my clothes, covered my face._

_He was gone._

_Edward, Edward I love you._

I woke up screaming.

"Bella!" Jacob shook my shoulder gently. His voice was terrified, eyes dark and large. They were not the eyes I wanted to see, not lovely caramel but deep chocolate brown. I was sobbing, screeching. I couldn't stop it. Edward's blood was on my skin, his body in shreds at my feet.

"The blood," I wept, pulling Jacob's fingers away so I could wipe it roughly from my face. "The blood!"

"Bells!"

I ignored his shouting, pulling fingers hard down over my skin. My screaming was hurting my ears, splitting open my head. I couldn't drown it. I couldn't escape the madness.

"_Bella! _Stop it, now! There is no blood." His dark fingers grabbed at my hand, his other palm holding my chin tightly so I would look at him. His eyes were intense, emphasizing his words with contracting lids. "There is no blood, Bella. There's nothing here. You're okay; _I'm_ here. It's just me. I'll protect you. Kyle can't get you, the Volturi can't get you. No one can—never again."

I blinked in confusion at the names, and then reality slapped me across the face. Of course he would suspect that my nightmare had been about Kyle or the Volturi. It made perfect sense. And even though that hadn't been it at all, what could I do? Could I honestly bring myself to utter the truth, to tell him what had caused my bloodcurdling cries?

With wide, horrorstruck eyes, I leaned into his chest, letting his fingers slide down over my head, words of compassion trickling from his mouth like softly spoken lullabies. I couldn't move; ice-cold water had taken place in my head, sloshing chaotically. His words were not making sense.

Jacob quickly realized, perhaps because of my unresponsive behavior, that his words were not helping much, and the room fell into silence. For a moment, I was frozen in a strange state of shock, locked into place by an odd and inexorable flood of emotion. I was all mixed up, swamped down with confusion, agony, guilt, regret…

"…Dad?" Junior's voice came hesitantly from the hallway, so shy and afraid. I realized randomly that I'd never be able to protect him, that he'd never really need me. I'd missed that short chapter of his life. It would always be him saving me, protecting me…just like always. I was weak, just as he'd said.

I forced my face in his direction, trying to see him through unfocused eyes.

He was wearing pajamas with little diamonds all over them. The colors were red white and blue, and in each of the diamond shapes was an _S._ _Superman_ pajamas, I realized. I almost laughed at the sight of him, how the pants barely reached his ankles, the t-shirt just a bit too snug. He truly was in need of some new sleepwear.

Junior tried on a smile when he saw my bleak amusement, but it didn't fit onto his mouth in any normal way. My eyebrows met.

"Yeah?" Jacob said, studying our child with analytical eyes. I knew that he had seen the strange tilt of Junior's lips, and I sensed that he was just as worried as I was about it.

"She okay?" My son wondered.

"Sure, sure. Just a nightmare, I think. I didn't realize she was this scared."

There was a long pause. I watched my son's face; he obviously had something more to say, but he was holding back.

Junior's reluctant eyes flickered to my face, testing the expression there, and then shot back to Jake. Infinitesimally, he gestured toward the hall with his head. I knew that I wasn't supposed to see the movement, that it was for Jake's eyes only. He wanted Jacob to come with him so that they could talk.

"Uh…Junior, I've got to talk to you about something." Jacob lied, going along with the secretiveness. They were trying too hard to be inconspicuous about excluding me. "Be right back, Bells," he said, patting my good hand and kissing my cheek. "Don't move. We'll be just in the next room. I'll hear if anything gets anywhere near you. There's no need to worry. 'Kay? _Right_ back."

And then he trotted to Junior's side, putting a hand on his back to guide him down the short hall again.

"Hey, wait a minute," I called hoarsely, my voice thick with sleep and pain.

Jacob poked his head around the corner, looking at me questioningly.

"What's so top secret that you have to hide in the other room to talk? I know I'm a little different, being weak and pale and all, but I didn't think that disqualified me as part of the family."

No one bought my attempt at playfulness. Instead, both of them pursed their lips at exactly the same time, exchanging a look that blatantly questioned my ability to handle whatever news was to be told. I made a face, watching them move in sync toward the sofa where I sat.

"You're part of the family," Junior assured me at the same time that Jacob said, "Its guy stuff."

I lifted a brow.

Junior cleared his throat nervously. "Okay, okay. The…er, Cullens called."

My mouth fell slack, my heart stopped and I broke out in a cold sweat all in the same second. I was so astonished I barely even noticed the unintentionally sour tone he used to speak the word.

The Cullens had said they would call when they heard anything about Edward. They must have known something. They must have received some sort of news—a phone call, a visit? My mouth went dry at the possibility, every ounce of moisture in my body gathering in my tear ducts. I tried to slow my breath.

"They called?" Jacob nearly gasped, shocked. His eyes flickered only shortly to Junior's face before returning to mine, studying and wary.

"…Yes."

"What did they say?" I tried. It sounded like nothing but panting.

Junior displayed a confused expression for a moment, but he must have been able to guess what I'd asked. "Bel—_mom, _Edward…Edward went to Italy."

"_What?"_

"They kept calling him, and finally he answered and told them he was in Volterra. Then he just…well, he hung up, I guess."

"He hung up?" Jacob echoed, confused.

"Yeah." Junior paused, uncomfortable with all the attention he was getting, and nudged a loose piece of carpet with his big toe. Then, reluctantly, he started again. "…Alice—" It was a strain for him to speak the name. "—said that he sounded…_weird, _annoyed. But that he wouldn't tell her anything."

"Can't she see him?" I breathed. Perplexed terror had frozen me in place again.

"…Well, no, not really. She said he's changing his mind too much."

"She can't see _anything? _She must see _glimpses!_ Something. She has to see something, she always does. Maybe just a little flash of something. Is he suicidal? Is he there…just…_because?" _I was rambling. The tears were starting to spill.

"Probably not." Jake said slowly, his voice deep and careful. He was staring at me cautiously as though he were afraid I'd topple over. I hadn't realized I was standing.

"Probably not _what? _Probably not suicidal or probably not there just because?" My voice was faint. I could hardly hear myself.

"There just because." His fingers found my good elbow. "Bells, maybe you should sit back down."

"No. No, I need to stand." I shook my head, pushing his fingers away. My body felt much too light, but I didn't care. I couldn't be here when the emotion took over. Jacob didn't need to see that—I didn't want him to. "I need some fresh air. I've got to get out."

I headed for the door.

"Mom, it's like one o'clock in the morning!" Junior protested. I ignored him, still shaking my head.

Keeping my head down so the tears would be obscured, I reached for the doorknob, but my fingers didn't meet the cold metal they were expecting. Shocked, I peered up, raising my eyebrows at the feverish skin beneath my hand.

"Jake, what are you doing?"

"You're not going outside, Bella." he said, blocking my path.

I screwed up my face, almost amused by the authoritative tone his voice held when he spoke to me. It was as though he thought he was my father. Chuckling a little frantically, I pushed at his side, desperate. "Funny, Jacob," I said.

"I'm not joking. It isn't safe." He scooped me off the floor, bringing me up into the air and against his chest. "Bells, look at what happened today. You're terrified as it is. You know this isn't a good idea. Stop being stupid."

"I'm not _being _stupid," I snapped. "Since when are you my boss?"

"Since apparently you're in need of one. You're being an idiot."

"_An idiot? _What is idiotic about this, Jacob Black? Tell me. Apparently I'm too _stupid _to understand how this could possibly be described as _idiotic."_

"It's _one in the freaking morning. _It's dark outside. You were _attacked _by some crazy lunatic today. You're crying and vulnerable, and, hell, I bet you can hardly even see. And yet you want to go outside where there are undoubtedly vampires roaming around lusting for your blood._ Twice _you've been attacked. And you want to go outside _now? _By _yourself?_ You tell _me _what about that _isn't _idiotic."

I glared at him, oblivious to what was going on. And then it all happened so fast.

Seemingly out of nowhere, Junior broke out in a horrific growl, his body convulsing. Within three seconds, he burst out of his skin, flying straight past us and into the kitchen, a great big wolf of perfect ivory. Jacob spun me around and threw me on the couch in the same second.

"_Shit!"_ He spit into the air. And then he was gone, a large russet brown wolf in his place.

Abruptly, with so much shock it felt as though I'd been hit by a freight train, I realized that there was a vampire in the room. Hunched over in the kitchen by the back door, it crept closer to my son, teeth bared, fingers curled over like talons. Her long black hair swayed on her perfect snowy face, beautifully contrasted with her burgundy eyes.

I sucked in a wild breath, a petrified squeak popping in my mouth.

With impossible speed, she reached out, smacking her stone white palm into Junior's enormous head, sending him three feet in the air. My wolf-son's body landed just short of where I was sitting. It didn't take him long to get back on his feet, and from his mouth came a furious roar so loud I had to cover my ears in pain.

Back in the kitchen, Jacob was ripping and tearing.

One, harsh metallic grinding noise shook the house, and the vampire shrieked in pain as an ashen limb disconnected from the rest. I kept my fingers over my ears, flinching and crying as I stared at the horrifying sight.

As both my men shredded limb from limb from the beautiful woman, another man swung through the front door, headed directly for me. As if nearly a reflex, I hopped almost gracefully onto the couch, cringing into myself in the farthest corner. Junior's large head whipped around, hearing my bloodcurdling scream.

I chucked a pillow at the white man, trying to slow him down. He smiled at me, his teeth unflawed and spotless—at least for the moment—and didn't slow at all. He was taking his time though, smart enough to realize that both of my protectors were too wrapped up to bother him.

It was the perfect ploy.

He stalked closer, feinting like a cat. His eyes were pitch black, his smile kind and only a little sadistic. He reminded me of Laurent…or James.

"Don't worry, this won't hurt _too _much," He hissed at me, grinning meaningfully.

I flung another pillow as he sprung into the air, smacking him dead in the face.

In response, the vampire plopped elegantly to the floor mid-leap and smirked, amusedly catching the cushion in his claw. Snorting, he raised a brow at me. "This is a little bit _elementary, _don't you agree?" And then he leapt again.

In the air, he was met by Junior, who plucked the monster's head off his neck so swiftly it was like picking a grape from its stem. Then, quickly, he tossed the body over to Jake. I blinked, stunned, and fell down against the cushions again, burrowing my face into Junior's beautiful white fur as he backed up against me, protective.

Jacob finished the disbanding in the corner shortly, and then he morphed back into his human self.

Still in front of me, my son twitched with embarrassment at his father's naked figure, a whine building deep in the back of his throat as though to say "yuck, dad," like some teenagers do. Pulling a spare purple towel from the back of the chair, Jacob gritted his teeth, wrapping it around his lower half.

He began collecting pieces.

"Stay with her," He commanded Junior, but Junior was already nodding before Jacob even got the words out.

All of the pieces were out of the room just ten minutes later, the smell of sugary smoke filling my nostrils. Jacob rushed back into the house, locking each lock on both of the doors, though the act was more or less pointless. As he flitted back into the living room, his side bumped a chair and the towel fell loose.

I lifted my brows, feeling a little awkward myself, while Junior whined again impatiently.

"Oh, knock it the hell off. It's not like she hasn't seen it all before." He growled just as impatiently back at our son. Hot blood ran up through my neck and painted my cheeks. I ducked my head back against Junior's shoulder, my fingers entwined in his fur.

After a moment of stunned silence, he looked back at me, his eyes warm and caring, but also a little expectant. With a little gasp, I realized he was waiting to turn back into a human, and here I was holding onto him. I let go of him quickly, smiling a rueful smile, and watched as he trotted down the hall and into his room.

He came back in a new set of sweats, a long pair of matching fabric draped over his arm. Junior chucked the extra pants at his father, making a face.

"Whatever happened to vamps not being able to come in unless invited?" He complained. Jake rolled his eyes, sighing as he pulled on the bottoms.

"I can't believe this. How dare those fucking leeches come onto my property?" Jacob snarled to himself, shaking his head. He was pacing.

"Jacob," I squeaked.

Two cool black eyes met mine, hard and full of fury. His jaw was tight under the russet skin, fingers pulled into his palms, and his nostrils flared. I swallowed hard, wondering if he was mad at me.

He looked for only a second, but then fear showed up in his stare, and he looked away, reluctant to have me see it. My breathing wasn't steady. Jacob was hardly ever afraid. If he was scared now…This was worse than any of us ever thought. Who were these vampires? Why were they after me?

"I should've kept one as a hostage," Jacob muttered, seeming to think along the same lines as me. He wanted information, just as I did, but it was impossible to ask questions while the only thing with answers was a pile of ash outside on the ground.

Junior sat next to me, placing his arm around my shoulders and pulling me into his chest. "'S okay, Mom. You'll be okay. We'll protect you. Shh," Warm fingers smoothed my hair for a moment, and then his cheek was heating the top of my head. "'S okay," he repeated.

But it wasn't okay. It wasn't okay at all.

Something was after me, and I had no idea what.


	40. The Hunt

**(Disclaimer- i own nothing.)**

_I'm sorry it has been such a long time since i've updated, though I'm sure no one really noticed. haha.  
this is probably not going to be very good. I didn't think much about it or plan it out like i normally try to, and it wasn't  
even part of my original plan. I have no idea where I'm going with it. This story is getting out of hand.  
Still no guarantees on finishing it. and Megan, you owe me a new chapter of your story.  
please review if you read it. i need to know whether i'm writing this story for a reason or not._

The Hunt

I hadn't hunted in weeks. The burn rose from my stomach and into my mouth, taunting me as I drew closer to my potential prey. Lips curling up over my teeth, I crept onward through the twilight air, concealed by black shadows, the stone wall grazing my right arm like the tender wisps of flower petals. The scent of their breath struck the tip of my tongue, curling up and into my nostrils, feeding my craze. My fingers shook sporadically with need, so dissimilar from the strong, still, practiced creature I used to be. Succulent breath flung out once more, sharper this time, a pierce to the heart with a flaming aero, gripping me.

I feinted to the left, eyes zeroed in on the women. It took much effort to keep the aroused sigh from passing my lips, to keep myself silent as I slowly closed the distance. The one to the right was wearing a turtleneck—that would make it difficult—but the one straight ahead…Her neck was fully exposed and nearly glistening in the streetlight, tanned and pulsing with warmth.

I took a moment to savor the aroma, letting my stomach expand in anticipation, eyelids pulling down over pitch black irises. My mouth pulled up into a vicious, selfish smile. I could taste them in the air. I could almost _feel _their lush nectar slipping past my lips.

One more step…

The shock sounded in her head before she could even process the words to cover it. Her olive fingers gripped her friend's arm, shaking her and nodding in my direction. Alarms buzzed loudly in her mind, telling her to run, to hide, to pray to God that the demon man before her didn't get too close. Her friend in the turtleneck snapped her little face to peer at me, shocked and awed all at once. They didn't move. They simply stared at me.

I had already straightened out of my crouch. The second her thoughts wound in through the chaotic thirst, I snapped out of the trance, melting into the shadows once again. What was I doing here? _What was I doing here?_

Shaking my head to clear it, I stepped away from the darkness and into the light of the lamp, nodding politely in their direction. There was nothing else that I could do. They had already seen me lurking there, making the alley I'd been headed for an impossibility. I didn't want to stir up too much fear and suspicion yet, so disappearing into the night was no longer an option. I'd been spotted.

I held my breath as I passed the women, trying not to stare too intently, keeping my head down. Their thoughts were filled with consideration and excitement now, tainted only faintly with the fear that had once existed so strongly in both. They were transfixed by the pale, dangerous man in the dusk. I chuckled darkly at how lucky they both were that I didn't decide to come back and give them what they wanted. A kiss on the lips…a kiss on the neck…My teeth would be much more inclined than they imagined.

I found a different alley not too long after I left them.

Pressing myself into the shadowed cobwebs, I ducked through the narrow opening in the stone wall and flitted through the night, not daring to stop until I neared the very end of the street. I had to find something to quench my thirst. I'd passed a housecat earlier, but the scent did nothing for me, nor could I dispel the image of Tom and Jerry from my delirious mind. What kind of vampire was I, afraid to eat a cat because of a foolish cartoon?

Bella had watched the show once when she was sick. That was why.

I shook away the thought, demanding from myself the focus that always seemed to stray back to her face. Bella was no longer mine, and I should not have let myself reach this point. I nearly murdered two innocent women—and for what? Anger, betrayal, rebellion? I'd controlled hungers before, maybe not quite as strong as this, but still, I had been able to control myself. This had nothing to do with the hot iron burning through my neck. I wanted to hurt, to kill, to make someone suffer. Like a bully ripping down an awkward child to build himself up, I wanted to force my pain onto someone else. If I could just strip away the ache like an ill-fitted suit, dress up another in my place…

Clenching my teeth, I thought of my family. What would Carlisle have thought of me at this moment? What would my father think of the way my fingers clung to the wall, digging through and grinding the stone into dust just to keep me from racing back to the warmth I'd left behind…the warmth that still marked the air around me…?

I felt the sudden need to call Carlisle, to cry like a boy and complain about my weaknesses, to apologize in tears for having almost destroyed the immaculate way he viewed me, the devoted faith he had in my so-called soul. The thought was pointless, though. I seriously doubted that anyone would appreciate my apology for having nearly killed two innocent women when almost directly after that atonement I ran off and killed _myself_.

And I'd already thrown the phone away, anyway.

I was truly a monster. And I was getting worse…

I pushed up from the ground angrily, flipping backwards away from the wall. No one was around to see me move this way; there were no traces of thought left at all where I was now. And even if there was, I don't think it would have stopped me. I was tired of attempting to leave my pain. I refused to act in such a cowardly way. It was time to start acting like what I was. No fear. I was going to get this done—for good.

It wouldn't be hard to irritate the Volturi; it had been a long time since they'd arranged any type of extermination—and what better than one of the Cullens?

Continuing down the alley, making a turn that would be almost entirely invisible to human eyes, I struck out randomly with a clenched fist, punching holes into the concrete walls. I nearly wished that I could feel the sore stinging of bleeding knuckles, the crunch of bone beneath malleable skin. It was irrational to _want _to feel physical pain. Most creatures avoided such things. Perhaps at this point I just needed something to distract me from the pain in my chest—the pain that swallowed completely the one piece of me that was vulnerable, my heart.

And the pain was getting worse, because, of course, she was in my head.

I had thought it was slightly strange when she had told me so many centuries ago about the voices. It was oddly sweet in a way, thinking that she had yearned for me so much that she had conjured illusions of my voice to keep her whole. What wasn't sweet, however, was the reason she had been broken in the first place. I should never have left her the way that I had. Perhaps that was where it had all started…where she had lost a piece of her faith in me. Perhaps that was the reason she wasn't here in my arms now. I'd made a mistake that was far too large for her to forgive, though she tried. I'd left her broken down, shattered, with nothing but a mangy mutt to cure her wounds.

I could understand it now, though—the voices. Hers was always there, in the back of my mind, perfect and clear, her face exquisite behind my burning eyelids.

Bella. Beautiful Bella.

I pulled my curled hands to my face, wishing I could wipe away the tears that wouldn't fall. My eyes burned as though moisture should swell in them, but nothing happened.

And then I saw her.

A girl, standing in the corner. Her eyes were wide and chocolate-colored, aimed directly at my face. She seemed to be straining her slight figure away from me as she leaned into the corner of the alleyway, her shoulders slumped, cowering. Her hair waved freely from crown to waist, the exact shade of mahogany. She was subtle and shocking and sweet all at once. Blush filled her white face like the petals of a rose.

Insanity gripped me. I hadn't heard her—not a wisp of sound. Her mind was silent, but her expression was full of thought. The street swirled in front of my face, unusual for me, unexpected.

I heard her gasp as I tilted toward the ground.

I froze mid-fall, realizing what was happening to me, and tried not to breathe again. My breath was coming too quickly and I was verging on impossible things like panic attacks. I had the unnecessary urge to put my head between my knees.

"Hello," I attempted weakly. She stared at me, guilt in her remarkably familiar eyes.

"I didn't mean to startle you. Sorry."

She didn't belong here. Her accent was entirely American, her skin as pale as mine was. And she smelled like roses, fresh ones, tied in with honey and something else…something delicious. I wanted to reach out and touch her face, one smooth finger on soft skin. The pain was crushing my chest.

"It's alright," I assured, stepping cautiously closer.

She cringed into the wall as I moved and, though her face remained frightened and guilty, there was curiosity there. She didn't remove her eyes from mine.

"Are you one of them?" she whispered. I pursed my lips. She smelled so lovely, and my throat was burning. I didn't know what she meant, but I had no oxygen left to speak, and I was too afraid to taste the air again. My instincts were too unstructured for this torture; I feared for the small woman.

Holding her eyes with mine, I held one finger up for her to wait before I turned and sprinted away from her at human-speed. When I felt I was far enough away to safely take in the oxygen to speak, I ran back to her.

"My name is Edward Cullen," I said slowly, trying not to reach out for her hand.

Her eyebrows met in confusion—or perhaps mistrust—and she shook her head. "Are you _one of them?"_

"One of whom?"

Her small white hand pushed the hair from her face in frustration and she glared at me. "You are, aren't you?" she growled. "You're so pale and still…I _know_ you are. You're one of them."

Shaking my head in perplexity, I stepped closer to her, meaning to assure her, to hold her shaking body until she felt safe again. She looked so fragile, so scared. My head was screaming names that weren't hers, but she was so similar…

"Stay away from me!" she half-shouted, pushing impossibly further into the cornered walls. "Please, just…leave me alone. Please?" She was pleading now, nearing tears. Her perfect little lips trembled so hard that I wanted to kiss her, and she bit a white line of teeth down into her pink flesh, cringing.

"I won't hurt you." I assured her, surrendering my hands to the air in a sign of peace. "I promise. Tell me who you are talking about."

"You're lying. They all lie," she spit. As she spoke, her shoulders rose around the sides of her face as though to shield her. She was like a turtle that'd lost its shell, still trying to hide inside of it though it no longer remained.

I lifted a brow. "_Who?"_

"Vampires." The word was a terrified whisper, almost inaudible to even my ears.

Instinctively, my expression smoothed out into a poker face, my mind already calculating every single story I could come up with to lie to her and deny the truth of what I was.

"Vampires?" I retorted a little sarcastically. If my heart had been able to beat, it would have been thumping like a jackhammer—perhaps due to anxiety, perhaps due to her face. I couldn't be sure of it.

Her eyes narrowed. "Yes. I can hear it in your voice. It's what you are, isn't it? You're one of them—one of the things that tricked me here?"

"Tricked you here? What are you talking about?" I tried futilely to read her mind again, my eyes narrowing with the effort. She cringed away from my glare, ducking her face into the skin of her arm.

My face crumpled as I watched her, my chest squeezing around its empty organs. I wanted to step closer and hold her, to stroke her hair and kiss her blushing face. Her eyes were so round and deep; there was so much to see in them—they went on endlessly, forever. With my own eyes burning, I swayed against the opposite wall, transfixed. She was so magnificent and unexpected, a perfect imitation-Bella. I hated myself for considering it. Bella Swan could not be replaced.

But I couldn't help the insanity from spreading. My head was swirling with a combination of impossible things. I was too focused on the path this girl opened up to me, the selfish need for Bella pulling at each string of my attention. I hated to think of it, hated it so much that I wished Aro would show up and turn me to ash for thinking it. But this girl, this wonderful girl, showed such potential. She could so easily be mistaken for Bella. Surely I could overlook the different curve of her nose, the thinner lips. I could delude myself into a false state of happiness. I could delude myself into thinking she was who I wanted her to be. I could pretend.

I was so wrapped up in my thoughts that I didn't hear the warnings.

His feet made no sound to my preoccupied ears; his thoughts were mute. By the time I saw his long, white arm fling out at her face, it was already too late.

The Bella-girl's head landed by my feet, tossed by Felix's crazed hand.

"Hello, Edward," he said politely, licking at the blood on his fingers. His eyes sparkled with red while he grinned, stepping casually closer. "What brings you back here, hmm?"

I was frozen, eyes locked on his face and hers, all at once. Her body had fallen over in the corner, her delicious blood leaking out over the cobblestones. The predator in me responded vaguely to the burn in my throat, but the part of me that was already convincing itself that she was Bella was too torn apart to notice. My impossible future was defeated with one volatile swipe of his hand.

A growl rose in my throat.

Felix raised a brow, snorting at me. "I'm sorry. Did I offend you? We were just playing a little bit of hide and seek. It's a new game of ours. You see, we let some of our food free during the nighttime—so we can chase them. Hunting isn't so much fun unless you can actually _hunt."_ He grinned, pausing. "She wasn't a pet of yours, was she?" He stuck a thumb in the direction of the body.

I could see by the way that his eyes lit up when he spoke that he was excited by the idea of it. He hoped she was something to me. He'd been longing to hurt me for so long.

I couldn't give him the pleasure.

"No," I muttered through clenched teeth. "Not a pet."

"Hm," he murmured, visibly disappointed. "That's too bad. I was almost hoping she was…well, you know who I'm talking about." He laid a hand on the wall beside me, leaning casually, and winked. "She looked like her. Are you sure she wasn't?"

Clenching my teeth, I spun away from him. "Bella is dead," I growled, lying. The Volturi had been told long ago about Bella's death, but I hadn't told them about the Quileute legend. We'd had Alice go and "show" Aro, keeping the legend a secret from her until after she'd come back. I had to continue it now—continue to keep the secret from them so that Bella would be safe.

Or did I? She wasn't my problem anymore, after all. She was Jacob's problem. Did I have to lie for her?

Yes, I did.

"Dead?" Felix scoffed, raising his brows. "No, not dead."

I blinked at him, confused. "Yes, she is." I argued.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes." The word spit from my mouth angrily. Why was he toying with me?

The creature stretched his fingers out hungrily, chuckling. "Haven't you ever heard of a little thing called _Reincarnation?" _His smile twisted menacingly, opening into more of a scowl, flashing his teeth. Slowly, he stepped toward me, pleased with my shocked expression.

He'd been hiding his thoughts from me, thinking of nothing but the scent of the blood in the air and Bella's face. But now there was more…so much more.

I saw the legend in his head, the story played out the way he'd pictured it thousands of times over the years. I saw them waiting, waiting, waiting for Bella to return. I heard the news of her rebirth in my head, saw the greed in Aro's eyes, felt the excitement of the clan. I saw the miniature group boarding the plane to Forks, planning to wait to get her alone. I heard their interest in the wolves, Aro's selfish plans to either acquire or destroy them. And then I saw their most malicious plan, worse than the image of dead wolves in a meadow, worse than the menacing smile on Marcus' mouth: I saw Bella, pale, white and unmoving, her white shirt stained by the pool of blood that seeped from her neck.

My breath came up through my chest like an avalanche, leaving my mouth in the form of vicious, mind-shattering growls, and before I even realized what I was doing, before either of us could react, Felix's head plopped down into the dirt at my feet.

He was nothing but a trail of purple smoke in the air only five minutes later. The matches I'd found in his pocket fell from my fingers numbly, and with them, I sunk to the cold ground. I had to get back to Forks, to call someone, to do _something. _I had to help Bella.

Or was I already too late?


	41. A Real Chapter

**(disclaimer-i do not own any of the characters from the novel twilight.)**

_i'm sorry that it has been so long since i've updated this story. i cannot say as to when it will be updated again,  
either. all that i can say is that i know that this is not turning out the way that i planned, so it will be very hard  
for me to get back on track. please bear with me, and do not be upset if i randomly stop again.  
oh, and also, this chapter is mostly pointless filler. so, please don't mind it.  
thank you for your patience._

* * *

**Chapter 41 **(no real title, sorry.)

* * *

I rolled over onto my side, carefully avoiding kicking Junior in the face. The feeling that swept over me upon glancing at his sleeping form was one of ambivalence. While the sight of him was more or less reassuring, it was also completely irritating. However large the danger was, I was still entirely unable to agree with being babysat by my own son. Not that I necessarily _had _to be babysat by him. Jacob, realizing that he was beginning to act like Edward again, carefully revised his instructions on how the situation would be handled, but Junior was still intent on his decision to be my guard dog.

Quietly, I sat up in the bed, throwing my legs over the side so that I could leave without him noticing. Just as I passed him at the bottom of the bed, fully on my toes as I crept through the night, he swatted the air, letting out a gusty sigh.

"Crap," I muttered to myself, freezing in place.

"Stupid bloodsucker," he breathed, switching to his left side. His long, gangly leg hung off the end of the bed in a humorous way. I smiled once at the dreaming boy before continuing quickly through the door.

Jacob found me in the hall with a huge grin on his face. His expression was almost entirely invisible in the dark house, but his teeth were so white that I could have spotted him a mile away. Nearly blind, I stretched a hand toward him, afraid to step forward.

"Couldn't sleep with all that snoring, huh?" he guessed, grabbing onto me.

"It's a little loud, yeah," I admitted, smirking.

"A little? C'mon," he laughed. "The kid sounds like a freaking weed-wacker."

We were in the living room now, and Jake was turning on the little lamp in the corner. On the table was a box of cookies. He picked it up and inhaled two of them on the spot before handing the box to me. I grabbed one of them and chewed the edge of it for a moment, thinking.

"Why are you out here?" I asked finally, looking up at him in confusion. Normally, unless he had some werewolf thing, he slept in the room with me, acting as my blanket in the night.

Jacob smirked at me, a superior expression on his splendid face. He snorted. "Isn't it kind of obvious, Bells?"

"Apparently not," I retorted, miffed. As I was speaking, I peeked out the curtain into the pouring rain, looking for something cold and white.

A warm hand found my shoulder and pulled me back onto the couch. "There's nothing out there, Bella. I've been on it the entire night. There hasn't been a single leech in over a week now. Maybe you should relax a little."

"Relax," I scoffed, rolling my eyes.

"Are you really that scared?" he asked, searching my eyes. "You are, aren't you?" His voice was a little incredulous.

I looked away, nibbling on the cookie as a way of distracting myself.

"Bells, as long as I'm here with you, you have nothing to be worried about. I am just as capable as anyone else--_anyone _else--when it comes to protecting you. And I have two-times the motivation, too. We've got a kid together. He isn't capable of that kind of love." His hand smoothed down the back of my pajama shirt, attempting to soothe me, but I wasn't soothed. I was actually kind of aggravated.

"I wish you wouldn't do that," I mumbled grumpily.

"Do what?" he sort of whined, throwing his palm into the air. "I'm not doing anything."

"You act as though your love for me is...well, far more superior to his. I don't like it, Jacob."

"Isn't it though? I do love you more than he does, more than he could ever even know. He isn't capable of what--"

"Jake!" I interrupted, pushing him.

"Okay, okay. Yeesh, Bells. Give me a break." He took his hand away from me, leaning over the coffee table for another handful of sweets. His foot was tapping angrily on the floor and he wouldn't look at me.

I shook my head, my eyes rolling back into my head at his foolishness. "Sometimes I just don't see how you could be so many decades older than me. You don't always seem to have matured much."

He turned back to glare at me briefly before changing the subject. "There's no room for me," he mumbled.

My eyebrows met as I digested his words. "What are you talking about?" I asked.

"On the bed. There's no room for me on the bed with him in there. I thought it was pretty obvious, seeing as how you hardly have enough room for yourself."

"Oh." I said blankly, staring at his bare back. There was a long pause. "Jake?" I finally said, breaking the silence.

Jacob repositioned so that he was face to face with me. His eyes were tired and his jaw was tightly concealing a yawn. His flared nostrils were all that gave him away. Even in doing this, he was pretty. I took his hand in mine, pulling him closer.

"You really are very beautiful. It's almost insulting." I grinned at him, tugging him playfully closer. Picking up on the new emotion in the air, a smile grew subtly on his lips as well, and he leaned in close to me.

"So, what? Did you get bored pretending you were my mother or something?" he joked, raising a black eyebrow.

I narrowed my eyes, frowning. "I wasn't pretending to be your mother, Jacob."

"Sure seemed like it to me," Jacob muttered, making a face.

Sighing, I sat up a little straighter. "You think anyone who acts even remotely mature is someone pretending to be your mother, Jake."

"Do not," he complained, planting a kiss on my cheek. A smile lit up his face when I looked back at him and he took my face between his hands. "I think _you_'re beautiful. Way prettier than me."

"I think I'm prettiest, actually," a new voice concluded sleepily. Junior rounded the corner in a robe, his eyelids drooping heavily with sleep. "You guys are so loud," he grumbled. "It's bad enough I have to be on the lookout for vampires 24/7, but to keep me awake with corny comments like that one, Dad? Come on."

"It wasn't corny," Jacob defended at the same time that I said, "You don't _have _to be on the lookout. You _put _yourself in that position, mister."

I was really becoming my mother, and Jacob was becoming my second son.

"Someone has to watch out for you," Junior insisted, shooting a vehement glare at the man pinning me to the couch. "He sure as hell doesn't do anything anymore."

"Hey!" I scolded, ready to defend Jacob.

Jacob placed his hand over my mouth, stopping the torrent, and spoke for himself. "I sure as hell do what needs to be done, kid. Have you seen anything in this house for the past week? No. Has anything gotten even a little bit close to Bella? _No. _You aren't the only one on the lookout. I'm just a little bit more...oh, I don't know, _sufferable, _maybe? So back off and think about your role in this house before I have to physically _make _you. Hear me?"

Junior jumped into a salute before rolling his eyes. "Yes, sir," he mocked.

I sighed, getting off the couch. "That's enough, you two. I think we've all developed cabin fever or something. Too much time together."

"You're telling me," Junior muttered.

"She said that's enough," Jacob warned.

"Seriously. You make me almost wish I had my blood drained by a vampire. The both of you. You act like children." I stomped angrily toward the kitchen, carrying the cookies with me, and put them in the cupboard. "I can't believe I'm supposedly the youngest here," I hissed to myself.

Insane laughter had me spinning around so quickly my hair gave me whiplash.

"What is the matter with you guys?" I shouted in irritation, watching in puzzlement as they choked and chuckled, leaning over the table.

"That can't really be her," Junior snorted, looking at me. "She looks..."

"Completely in her element?" Jacob finished, chortling.

Curious, I walked over to peer at the paper in his hand. It took me a minute of dazed staring before I realized that it was a picture of me. In this picture, I was spitting soda all over Jacob's little garage.

Gasping, I tried to rip the picture from Jake's hand. "Where the hell did you get that!?" I demanded. Jacob just laughed at me, swirling so that I couldn't reach it.

"A long, long time ago, I'm assuming," Junior answered for him, squealing with laughter. "Don't worry, Mom. You look beautiful. The whole...water-fountain/horse-face look totally suits you."

Jacob, always at my rescue, merely swatted his son on the head, laughing along.

I couldn't believe it. I had given up a polite, beautiful, gentlemanly, and potentially-dangerous vampire for _this? _I was mentally challenged.

Angry and red-faced, I stomped off to my room alone, slamming the door behind me, and tried to pretend that the two idiots in the other room did not belong to me.


	42. Danger, Will Robinson

**(disclaimer-i do not own any of the characters from the novel twilight.)**

_so, my writing is completely...unlike my writing at the moment. i don't know what's happened to me.  
but i figure that a new chapter is necessary anyway, seeing as i've left this story story hanging out to dry  
for so long. it's about time i tried to officially end it. so, here we go. please leave reviews, if you can._

* * *

**Danger, Will Robinson.**

* * *

The rain was coming down swiftly and softly, moistening the roots of my hair. I didn't bother to pull the hood down over my head; I was already soaked from the mist coming up off the water. The white driftwood log was wet beneath me and the wind was cool enough to bring goosebumps to my arms. Still, I didn't move to cover myself. I was enjoying the freedom of the moment.

Jacob had convinced Junior to leave me be for a few minutes while they checked the area for threats. Embry had come to the house this morning and woken all of us up, speaking anxiously about tracks he had found in the mud near the little La Push store, and they'd all run off to investigate and try to identify the scent. I hadn't heard much of the conversation, but Jake had promised to fill me in when he got back.

So here I was, sitting in our spot, mulling over the events of the month, or, more specifically, the recent attacks I'd been receiving from the vampire species.

Just thinking about it had my teeth chattering a little more quickly, my pulse hammering through the veins in my neck.

I still hadn't figured out what Kyle was, and I didn't know whether I should be terrified or fascinated. The last time I had seen him, despite how rough he was while handling me, he had seemed more protective than threatening, as though he had been trying to save me from something awful. Maybe it was wrong to keep him away from me. Perhaps he knew something that I should know, something that could be potentially dangerous to me. He sure _seemed _to have some kind of knowledge about the existence of vampires.

And then, of course, were the last words he had spoken to me before he left, the words that had stuck with me every night in my dreams. "I really hope you don't die," he had said to me. He thought that I would die, but from what?

A noise startled me then, seeming to come from no where. It sounded almost like breathing, but there was no one around that I could see. My heart-rate kicked up a notch and I glanced around me, trying not to panic. If anything, it was probably Jacob or Junior, checking in on me and making sure that I wasn't stolen away by any devilish fiend. That had to be it.

But what if it wasn't? Would anyone get to me in time?

Freedom wasn't looking so swell any longer. I found that I missed the constraint.

"Hello?" I called out shakily. My breathing was so loud it was embarrassing.

Cautiously, I stood up from the rotting log, peering over my shoulder into the distant woods. I half-expected to see Jacob come tearing out from between the green fronds, ready to save me from whatever it was I couldn't see. My eyes were watering as I spun in the other direction, wishing one of my wolf-men would show up and tell me how stupid I was for being afraid.

Shivering, I turned once more to face the ocean, hoping to get whipped in the face with a blast of sea-mist so I could come out of my panicked trance. But I didn't get what I expected.

What stood before me was tall, beautiful, and the palest shade of white. His eyes were wild with fear, black as pitch, and partially obscured by rain-darkened hair. Two cold hands stretched out to me, claw-like and gentle. His shirt was torn open, revealing more of his perfection than I could handle. Edward was simply the most amazing thing my eyes had ever met. He was an angel.

And, unless my eyes were mistaken, he was very much alive--or, as alive as he could be.

"You didn't get them to kill you," I whispered into the rain.

Edward shook his head quickly, his eyebrows furrowed in what looked like determination. "Bella," he mouthed, looking up at the purple clouds above his head. "We don't have much time now; I'm already late. You need to come with me." He reached for me, stopping only as his hands brushed against the sleeve of my coat.

"What?" I objected, backing away in confusion. "Where? Why? What about Jacob?"

Edward pursed his lips, visibly frustrated. "You're going to need to trust me, Bella. I don't have time to explain. I just need you to come with me. It isn't safe here anymore."

His words matched Kyle's almost perfectly. My mouth hung open in shock and my feet stuck in the mud. "But Jacob..." I said inaudibly.

"No time," he repeated, coming toward me. His dark eyes shot warning glances in every direction, making the sinking feeling in my stomach get just a little bit worse. I could feel the blood draining from my face with each second, my eyes getting larger and larger with fear.

"No, Edward." I denied him, moving away from his grasp as he tried once more to latch onto me. "No. I cannot leave here without knowing where Jacob is. And Junior. I need to have them with me; they're my family. I won't go with you, not without knowing they're safe."

Huffing angrily, Edward seemed to bite his tongue for a minute, thinking over his response. Then suddenly he was right in front of me, his eyes intense and dazzling, less than an inch from my own. "Bella," he said, voice persuasive, eyes narrowed. "I promise you that they will be protected, alright? But for now, you need to remember that they are both grown men, both very strong and capable of fending for themselves. Right now, you are the one who needs protecting. You're in danger, Bella, and I'll be damned if I see you leave me again, even if you aren't mine."

I blinked at the passion in his tone, completely stunned and silent. While I was in this state, a second pale, white form appeared at my left elbow, her spiky black hair now slick against her beautiful little head. She smiled up at me in the rain, her white teeth tinted purple from the storm clouds above.

"Hey, Bella," she sang.

"Hi, Alice," I murmured dazedly.

"Alice," Edward addressed her, turning her toward him. "Where are the others?" She didn't respond aloud, but I watched as Edward read what he needed in her thoughts, the way that he silently nodded his head in assent.

"What? Where are they?" I asked her, anxiety working its way into my tone, giving me more volume than I'd had before.

"Emmett and Jasper are scanning the woods, looking for Kyle. I saw him somewhere near here, but it's all so blurry that I can't be sure where he's coming from...who he's with." Her voice trailed off as she stared through me, seeing something other than my face. I reached out and attempted to shake her gently, urgency written on my face.

"You know about Kyle? What is he, Alice? Do you know?"

"I don't know. He's like nothing I've seen before. He keeps going in and out of focus." Her eyebrows met confusedly and she glanced at Edward, who seemed much too impatient to be standing in the rain conversing.

"We need to go," he insisted, glancing out into the sudden darkness.

"No, hold on." I looked back at Alice, holding my hand up for her to wait. "What about Esme and Carlisle? Where are they?"

"Looking for the wolves," she retorted matter-of-factly. After a moment of staring at my bewildered expression, she added, "they're supposed to fill them in on what's going on, not that we really know all that much about what is happening. Still, they need to be informed, just in case we need some sort of...backup."

"We won't _need _backup," Edward snarled, his nostrils flared. "I can handle this. I _can _protect her."

Alice looked up at him, entirely calm. I, on the other hand, was shocked by his reaction.

"Cool your jets, Edward. You need to stay focused," she told him. I watched as his features slowly smoothed out, and then his eyes settled back on me.

"We have to go. They're already in Seattle," he muttered, grabbing at my arm. He was already running as he scooped me up against his chest, the scenery of the soon-to-be hurricane blurring around us. Alice kept up with him, following closely behind, her eyes tight with concentration.

"Edward," I murmured breathlessly, staring at his angry face. "Who is coming?"

His expression hardened and his arms felt hard as stone around me, no longer quite as gentle as they were just a moment before. "The Volturi," he spit vehemently, staring straight ahead.

My heart stopped. I felt nauseous. "The Volturi?" I squeaked. I watched in complete terror as he nodded his head, trying hard to find the words for my next question. It was hard to think with all that was going on around me. I was having trouble focusing. "Edward, why are they coming? What do they want?"

"I don't know. They must have found out about the situation." His voice was like ice, cold and biting.

"But _how?_"

"I don't know, Bella. Please be quiet now. I promise you'll be safe."

The next couple of minutes were very quiet. All that was heard was from the storm, the thunder, the pelting rain. There was no sound of running feet, not that I expected there to be. There wasn't even the sound of Edward's breathing. I, too, seemed to be holding my breath, waiting for Aro to appear in front of us and grant me a second gravestone.

I shivered in Edward's arms.

"You must be freezing," he muttered, angry with himself. "I should have brought something to keep you dry."

"You can't always be the hero," I grumbled incoherently, looking away from him. My attention had drifted, my thoughts lingering on the safety of my family, of Jacob and Junior. Where would they be now? Were they safe? Could Edward possibly know that they would be alright?

I was so distracted by my worrisome thoughts that I hardly noticed when we came to a sudden halt. The only thing that brought me back to the present was the voice that I heard, the angry, confrontational tone that I had come to know so well.

"Stop right there," Jacob demanded, belligerent. "Get your filthy hands away from her."

**_(Bad ending to this chapter, but it's long enough, so I kind of need to stop here.)_**


	43. Tick, Tock

**(Disclaimer- I own nothing.)**

_hey. new chapter. leave reviews, please. the end is drawing nearer._

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**Tick, Tock **(Horrible title.)

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Edward stood entirely motionless just two feet from where Jacob now crouched. I could feel my breath struggling, stuck inside my mouth, my eyes attempting an escape from their sockets. The rain came down in slants, pelting, pelting, pelting my skin and shaking my hands. The sky around us was an angry shade of violet; even the trees seemed livid as they pitched in the wind.

Alice's head slowly turned back and forth, looking from her brother to Jacob, her brother to Jacob.

Jacob's countenance was beautiful. His nostrils were flared like tiny, brilliant bat caves. His black eyes were locked and intense on mine, full of hatred for the arms and hands that held me still. His posture was that of a feral wolf, even as he stood before me completely human, and his pants were on backwards. He looked as though he would bite if we got too close, as though he would rip and tear and bite.

"Jacob," I whispered to him.

He unleashed his fiery glare on Edward, let out a small snarl. "I said get away from her," he barked. "Are you stupid? _Let go of her! _She's shivering; you're making her colder!" His dark eyes fell down to my face and they were scared, just a little scared.

I blinked and Edward looked down at me, watched me shake and quiver with chill. His arms slipped away from me and I was on my feet. Jacob snatched me within seconds and I was standing on The Other Side with The Other Team.

Jake's skin was pleasurably warm so I snuggled into him, terrified and content. His arms were tight and constricting and absolutely wonderful. I wanted to bury myself inside of the sun that was Jacob Black, disappear from the world of vampires and Kyles and danger.

"What's going on?" I whispered to him, my face warm against his chest.

He looked at me, his body tense and protective around me, and his eyes were warm and carefully tranquil. He looked a little like Sam here, and I realized absurdly that I preferred the feral monster he was just a moment before. His hand smoothed my hair, his eyes darting to Edward, and kissed my cheek. It would have been sweet and comforting if he hadn't really just been claiming property.

"The tracks were some kind of diversion, and they had absolutely no scent," he murmured back, only to me. I bit my lip.

"Kyle?" I suggested, remembering that Jacob hadn't been able to smell him last time.

"Probably," Junior answered. Both Jake and I looked at him, and slowly I became aware of the fact that the whole wolf pack was standing behind me. I shivered with the next blow of wind and Jacob hugged me closer, his eyes tight and frustrated. "Dad, we need to get her out of here. It's freezing."

"I know," Jacob told our son.

"Why would Kyle need a diversion?" I asked, looking hesitantly over at Edward and Alice, whom I'd been ignoring for the past three minutes. The both were standing quite still, Alice's face one of disappointment and Edward's one of stone. His eyes were empty and mine were full. On no matter which side I stood, I felt like a traitor.

Jacob squeezed me, feeling the slight weakening in my limbs. He'd grown used to my body language, almost to the point of danger. I hated that he must have known what I was thinking, so I hid my face. Fear, risk, confusion, self-hatred, denial, sadness, guilt. These things flooded me too often, and now was no exception.

"I think he wanted me away from you, so you'd be alone," Jacob answered without further hesitation. That was something that Edward would have tried to keep from me so I wouldn't fear it, I was sure. I tried to keep it in mind, to remember all of the things that Jacob did that Edward did not, the things about Jacob that I loved.

While I was doing that, Rosalie cut into the conversation with a clear, sharp voice, sneering slightly at Jacob. I hadn't realized she was there. She came out of nowhere.

"Well, you're in luck then, aren't you? If Edward and Alice hadn't come in and found Bella, who knows where Kyle would be, what he'd have done to her?"

"Rose," Alice quietly reprimanded, giving her a look that said "don't scare the human."

"You should not have left her alone," Edward intoned, staring through Jacob with emotionless eyes. His arms were loose at his sides and he looked a little sleepy for someone who couldn't sleep. I felt the sudden urge to run to him and hold him for a while, sing him my lullaby and calm him into a nap. My ears were ringing.

"You don't dictate what I do," Jacob snapped, throwing me backwards a bit, readying himself. I grabbed at his arm, trying to pull him back to me, eyes wide and breath quick. I couldn't find any traction on his slippery skin and my hand fell away, empty and freezing in the pouring rain. I felt alone despite the multiple wolves and vampires that clouded my vision.

Junior latched onto me, pulling me into the heat of his skin. Hushing me, he gently smoothed my hair, keeping his eyes on Jacob and Edward the whole time.

"I do when it comes to Bella's safety. You may have won her affections this time—"

"_Both _times, actually, leech," Jacob cut in, grinding his teeth and leaning forward. Edward winced slightly. I bit my lip. That was a low blow. Jacob wasn't playing fair.

"Very well," Edward said quietly. "But none of that matters. If you're going to play havoc with her safety, I'll rip her from you without one ounce of consideration for either of your wants. She _will _be safe, whether she likes it or not, and you will not have a say in it."

Jacob snorted, livid. I could see the tremors growing and growing, rolling down along his arms, twisting into his spine and curving him into a more animal form. "If that's what you think, that I _want _her dead, then you've gotta be confused. I've been told that I have a pretty good memory, and if that stands correct, then weren't _you _the one willing to take her life?" Jacob paused, waited for Edward to disagree, for anyone to argue, but there was not a sound. His fingers stretched and curled, making a fist. "If anyone here wants her dead, it's you, you stupid, hypocritical piece of—"

"Jacob!" I scolded. There were tears in my voice. I hadn't realized that I was crying, but when I glanced down, I could see that the part of Junior's arm that should have been dry beneath my chin was suddenly wet.

Alice stepped forward and placed a hand on Edward's forearm as though to hold him back, though he hadn't moved and he looked like he never would again. He was entirely somber, expressionless.

"There's a bigger problem here than your ego, Jacob Black," she said in a small voice. "The Volturi are looking for Bella. We need to get her away from here, now." Her big, golden eyes peered up at her brother and sister through the fray of dark, wet lashes for just a moment. Then she was walking into the woods.

Just as I was about to ask where she was going, she returned with the rest of the Cullen family in tow. Each of them filed past me to stand behind Edward. No one looked, no one touched, no one came near me except for Esme, who reached out and stroked my slick face in the rain. Junior flinched back when her hand came close, and his nostrils curled up from the smell. I wished I could have smelled something other than their sweet brilliance, something that would have repelled me to begin with, something that would have made this whole situation unnecessary.

I smiled at Esme, a small and hollow smile, and settled closer to my son when she walked away. The movement was meant to reassure him, but I don't know that he noticed it at all. His eyes were still rigid on Jacob's back, which, too, was rigid. I could hear their measured breathing through the rain, and I knew that they were trying to calm themselves.

A boom of thunder pounded the earth and a crack of lightning lit the dark purple sky pink for just a moment. I let out a little shriek at the piercing noise and caught Jacob's attention. His eyes met mine and he seemed to wake up a little, the dazed anger seeming to drain out of his eyes slowly, through a pinhole. He walked over sluggishly and replaced Junior's arms with his own, securing me in a blanket of russet warmth.

"Thank you," I heard him mutter to Junior.

Then he turned to Edward, serene, the calm before the storm, and regarded him with nearly apologetic eyes. The expression was fake, and I wondered what his thoughts were really saying.

"What is he thinking to you?" I asked Edward quietly, watching for signs of life in his dead face. Edward looked at me and held my stare for a minute. His expression was so entirely poker-faced that I had no way of telling what he was feeling. There was no pain, no loss, no anger, nothing. It was blank, normal. Anyone who saw him would think nothing of this expression. It was the same that he would wear walking into a store, a movie-theatre, a library, his own home. It was so perfect, so normal, that I silently began to cry.

It was the saddest thing I'd ever seen in my life.

No one noticed my tears in the rain, and Edward didn't answer.

"I was strategizing, Bells," Jacob told me in a strained voice. "I was thinking that we could take care of you on our own. We could deal with this Kyle kid, and they could…kindly…explain to the Volturi that you have absolutely nothing to do with them. Or maybe they could pretend that you're not the same person? That you're not reincarnated?" He looked at Edward, his face questioning and a little hopeful.

"Impossible," Jasper answered for him. Everyone turned to look at him, slightly astonished that he had spoken a word.

"How come?" Junior inquired impatiently. I glanced at him, noticing for the first time that the whites of his eyes were bright red. How much sleep had he been getting? This wasn't healthy. He needed rest.

"Jacob." I pulled on the pocket of his pant-leg. He looked down at me, distracted. "Look at him," I said, pointing at Junior. "His eyes are so bloodshot he looks like _he_ could be from the Volturi. He needs sleep."

Jacob pursed his lips, considering. "Yeah, Bells, but there isn't time right now. We could all use a little sleep, but it's hard to rest when you're being tracked by some vampire clan, you know?" His voice was low, speaking only to me, but the conversation around us seemed to wait for him anyway.

"It's impossible because Aro will demand to read one of our minds, and he'll see the truth. He'll know that we're lying," Alice finally answered for her mate.

"Read your minds? Like him?" Embry asked, jabbing a finger in Edward's direction.

"Yes, like me, except, rather than just have thoughts on demand, he needs physical contact for his ability to work. Once he gets the contact he needs, he can read every thought you've ever had throughout your entire existence."

Junior's mouth dropped open with a little popping sound. "That's crazy," he remarked, staring at Edward in some sort of boyish awe.

I looked at each of the people around me, measuring their expressions. Some were tense, frustrated, angry, impatient. Others were worried, sad, scared, and anxious. I wondered absently what my own face looked like, what the others saw when they stared at me. I was currently on the hit list of the single most frightening thing I could imagine, surrounded by friends and foes, foes and friends, in the middle of a would-be hurricane, held into place only by Jacob's strong hands. I could see trees and hair and clothing whipping around all over the place, slapping people's faces and catching the wind. I could hear the furious rolls of thunder and see the threatening streaks of lightning that marred the purple sky like tears down a face.

It seemed as though I'd been standing in this place, in this hell, for a lifetime. Realistically, I knew it had been maybe only ten minutes. And yet, still, I could sense that I had little time left.

"Jacob," I whispered. I was terrified suddenly, my insides seeming to consist purely of Elmer's glue, my eyelids fluttering strangely to conceal tears. I was so afraid, so afraid, that this would be the last moment I would be here with him, and I wanted to make the best of it. I wanted to tell him that I loved him, that I always had. I wanted to tell him how much our son looked like him, how beautiful they both were. I wanted him to know how happy I was to be a part of his family, to be a part of him. I just _wanted _him. I wanted him now and always, no matter how stupid and ignorant he could be.

"Jacob," I whispered again, looking up at him looking down at me. By his expression I could tell that he knew what I was feeling. His eyes were warm and his lips were close. He looked very sad, very tired. His eyes matched Junior's in color.

"I love you," he murmured to me, and I kissed him.

For a second, the rest of them weren't there. They didn't exist. But then Alice gasped and Edward's face was strained and he was listening to the thoughts of someone drawing nearer.

"Crap," Jacob muttered, anxiously. He looked from Alice to Edward and back. "What? What _is _it?"

"They're coming," Edward said just as Alice said, "They'll kill her."

My mouth fell slack.

"What?" Junior and Jacob demanded in unison.

Edward's eyes met mine through the rain, and in them, I saw pain. So much pain.


	44. Continuation Question

Hey guys!

Holy crap! I haven't written anything new for this in such a long time. In order to get back on track and finish this up I'd need to reread everything I've already written, which is what has led me to write this. I'll probably get around to reading it over again at some point in life, but I need to know if anyone even wants to read this anymore before I spend my valuable studying-time working on this again. Is anyone interested in hearing the ending anymore, or has the interest been lost? I'll understand completely if no one cares to hear the ending anymore. I just wanted to see how much of a demand there was for me to finish this, because I'm feeling a little guilty for leaving everyone hanging.

So, yeah. That concludes my rant. Please, **please drop me a line (in a review, preferably) telling me if you would like to see this continued or not**. Thanks!

Yours Truly,  
Sampire


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